


Convince Me

by shellreads



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Band Fic, Elorcan, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Girl Band, Modern AU, band au, lysaedion, rowaelin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:41:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 52,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25049347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shellreads/pseuds/shellreads
Summary: When Aelin Ashryver-Galathynius, lead singer of Bitch Queen, gets in a twitter fight with Rowan Whitethorn, drummer of The Cadre, everyone is buzzing about their hatred for each other. When their PR teams decide they need to fake a friendship to keep up a good public image, the two are vehemently against it. But slowly, a fake friendship turns into a real connection, maybe something more.
Relationships: Aedion Ashryver/Lysandra, Aelin Ashryver Galathynius | Celaena Sardothien & Rowan Whitethorn, Aelin Ashryver Galathynius | Celaena Sardothien/Rowan Whitethorn, Elide Lochan & Lorcan Salvaterre, Elide Lochan/Lorcan Salvaterre
Comments: 101
Kudos: 254





	1. Chapter 1

Most celebrities rattled on about how they hated fame, hated all the attention, but Aelin knew that was a load. Sure, there were aspects of fame that could be frustrating, but not one of them would trade their careers for a chance to go to the grocery store unnoticed. 

She wouldn't, that's for sure. Aelin had worked her ass off for her career, and she wasn't ashamed to admit that she was proud of her success. Bitch Queen had started from nothing, and now they had a top-charting album with two number one singles. She reveled every time a fan stopped her in the street, every time someone asked to take a photo with her, because she had worked for every ounce of fame she had, and they had finally made it. 

Aelin hadn't even planned on being in a band. She'd always been a good singer, a raw talent her parents had fostered from her childhood, but she'd never intended on doing anything with it. But when her best friend started learning the guitar she begged Aelin to do some duets with her, and Lysandra was a tough person to deny. So they would mess around with different arrangements, would butcher their favorite songs, until one day, it sounded good. Really good. 

They started practicing more seriously then, and by their senior year of high school, they had really honed their skills. Lysandra's fingers danced along the strings with ease, rarely making a mistake, and Aelin had enrolled in singing lessons to refine her ability. She even tried her hand at songwriting, and after a year of failed attempts, finally produced something passable. 

They roomed together in college, Aelin majoring in Business, as she planned on following in her mother's footsteps and running Ashryver Inc., while Lysandra chose psychology, since she intended on going into social work. They spent any free moment composing and playing and videoing their songs, but they still hadn't decided to do anything with their newfound skills. But somehow, everything fell into place. 

Aelin found their keyboard player when she bumped into a childhood friend on campus. She hadn't seen Elide since elementary school, when she had moved to New York to live with her uncle after her mother's death, but college had brought her back to California, and Aelin was eager to rekindle their friendship. The girls became close quickly, old bonds quickly reinstated, and when she told Elide about her and Lysandra's little duo, Elide told her that she was currently enrolled in the school's music program, and had been training on the keys for years. Aelin insisted she play with them, just for fun, but Elide was hesitant- she had grown very shy in their years apart. Elide eventually agreed, but only if she could invite her roommate, Manon, who played the drums. 

Aelin easily agreed. She was happy to find one new person to play with, not to mention two.

The next afternoon, Elide let them into the music hall, taking them to one of the many rehearsal rooms in the building. Inside, a silver-haired girl was adjusting the height of her drummer's throne, flashing them an assessing glare as they entered. Lysandra immediately darted towards the rack of guitars on the wall, running her hands over the glossy wood in wonder. But Aelin didn't have any fancy instruments to fawn over- mics were mics- so she scanned the area, taking in the sheer amount of instruments in that one room. She didn't know what kind of funding this school had, if every rehearsal room was stocked like this. 

Manon stalked over to them, using her height to her advantage as she stared down at Aelin. She could see why people thought Manon was intimidating, with her blood-red lips that curled into a smirk and her metallic painted nails, so long they were basically claws. Aelin just looked up at Manon, a slow smile spreading across her face as she extended her hand. "Aelin Ashryver-Galathynius." Aelin respected the effort at intimidation, but hoped Manon didn't think she would be able to cow her. Aelin actually really wanted to be her friend- she loved a girl who would get shit done- but she had too much self-respect, and maybe too much pride, to let herself get steamrolled by this girl. 

Manon raised an eyebrow at Aelin's gall, her smirk turning into a proper smile. She probably wasn't used to meeting her match, but she didn't seem unhappy about it. "Manon Blackbeak," she said, grasping Aelin's hand firmly. "Elide said you sing?"

"Yeah, and my roommate Lysandra," she pointed at Lys, "plays guitar."

Flipping her silver hair over her shoulder with a curt nod, Manon said, "Well, let's get started. No point wasting more time than we need too."

Aelin frowned at her pessimism, but they all got into position, Lysandra widening her eyes dramatically at her roommate when the other's backs were turned. They all toyed with their instruments, tuning them while Aelin warmed up her voice, before deciding on a song they all knew. The first couple tries were rough, but eventually they got a feel for each other's style and techniques and the song really came together. It was far from perfect, but it had potential. 

Surprisingly enough, it was Manon who suggested they start practicing seriously, as a band. The girls had been shocked at the suggestion, but quickly agreed. What did they have to lose? Maybe something would come of it, but even if nothing did, they all loved music, so there was no time and energy wasted. They compared schedules and found a time they could meet every day. 

They started with covers, getting the hang of playing together and making their sounds blend seamlessly, before moving on to original tracks. Lysandra and Aelin started looking into gigs, and when it came time for them to pick a name, Aelin had the perfect one. Bitch Queen, the nickname given to her courtesy of her entire high school student body; she had loved it then and she loved it now. The girls loved it too.

They played gigs all throughout college, becoming regulars at small venues, even scoring Friday night spots at a couple bars and clubs. When someone posted a video of their set on YouTube, everything went nuts, and suddenly they had offers from twenty different labels. Everything after that was a blur: signing the contract with Terrasen Records, dropping their first singles, writing their first album, recording their music videos. In just over a year, they had become one of the biggest names in indie rock. 

It was while they were recording at the studio that they met the men of The Cadre. Their lead singer, Fenrys, had popped his golden head into their recording room in the middle of a set, scaring the living shit out of Lysandra and ruining the take, but he just laughed and said, "The boss told us the label was getting a new group, but didn't expect them all to be so pretty," with an exaggerated wink. They all just rolled their eyes and laughed at his come-on, except for Manon, who snarled at him. Fenrys had the good sense to look nervous at that, but he quickly recovered, sticking his hand out to all of them. "I'm Fenrys, lead singer in The Cadre. These are the guys," he said, gesturing behind him to where three other men had slipped into the room, looking much more uncomfortable than their friend. Aelin's eyes scanned the guys, thoroughly impressed by the sheer size of them. They had to be the most muscular men she had ever seen, and all unfairly attractive. 

"This is Gavriel, our guitarist," Fenrys said, gesturing to the other blond in the group, who flashed them all a small smile. 

"Next to him is our bassist, Lorcan." Lorcan's long black hair shone as he pulled it up into a ponytail, barely sparing them a glance before turning away. Aelin smiled to herself when his eyes shot back up and went straight to Elide, but the moment only lasted a few seconds before Lorcan schooled his features and dropped his gaze.

Chuckling to herself, her eyes caught on the white-haired man towards the back, his toned arms crossed over his chest. "Lastly, we have Rowan Whitethorn, our drummer." He had a wicked tattoo stretching down the side of his face and onto his torso, judging by the way it disappeared into his turtleneck. When she dragged her eyes back up to his face, she found his eyes already on her, though he didn't seem to be appreciating the view the way she was. No, he was sneering at her, looking at her like she was the dirt on the bottom of his shoes. Aelin blinked at him, as much surprise as she would show, before drawing her eyebrows in and fixing him with a glare of her own. She had just met the man. How could he already hate her? Aelin snapped her gaze away from him, briefly introducing her friends to the men.

The two bands ended up spending a lot of time together, since both groups happened to be in the recording process at the same time. Aelin and Fenrys became fast friends- their personalities were too similar for them not to get along. But they weren't the only one's getting close. Anytime the bands met up or had lunch together, Elide and Lorcan always wound up next to each other, practically ignoring everyone else as they listened to each other in rapt attention. No one was surprised when the two announced they were dating later that month; everyone had seen that one coming from a mile away. The girls were thrilled for their friend- even though Lorcan was a raging bastard to all of them, he seemed really good to Elide. And both Manon and Aelin didn't refrain from detailing exactly what they would do to him if he hurt her. He only gave them an unimpressed look.

Aelin managed to become decent friends with Gavriel, his soft-spoken demeanor giving into wicked humor once he got comfortable. She tried, several times, to speak to Rowan, but every single time he met her friendliness with hostility, barking insults at her that hurt more than she was willing to admit. She hurled insults of her own in response, but after a while, she gave up trying to get Rowan to warm up to her. Whatever she had done to make him hate her, there was obviously no way for her to undo it, so she decided to just leave it be. 

They all kept in touch after they finished recording, attending the same events and even going out to dinner together. Bitch Queen's album was a smash hit, and The Cadre's third album was pretty popular as well. They met up for congratulatory drinks after both albums had dropped, toasting to new music and new friends. 

Now, Bitch Queen was prepping to go on tour in two months, and Aelin was lying if she said she wasn't freaking out. Playing their little shows when they were unknown was one thing, but an entire tour of sold out venues? She knew they were good, was confident in the songs she had written and in her own vocal ability, but she just didn't want to let anyone down. 

Aelin couldn't help that she channeled her nervousness into aggression. And it was Rowan's fault for tweeting that shit, anyway. 

She had tweeted a picture of their tour dates with the caption: "20 shows!! I'm crazy nervous but crazy excited to see you all!!"

To which Rowan replied: "we've got 35 shows, and I'm not nervous at all."

It wasn't really that big of a deal, but it made Aelin's blood boil. Was he insinuating that she was less professional than him because she was _nervous_? For her first tour ever? And of course The Cadre had more shows than them, this was their third studio album, they already have a fanbase. What was Bitch Queen supposed to do, become The Strokes after their first single?

Aelin couldn't help herself: "Maybe if you played anything difficult, you would be. Manon could play your parts in her sleep."

The response came in minutes: "No, experience just makes you more composed. Maybe you'd know if you had some."

She was seething. Was he calling her an _amateur_?: "I think nerves make me a better performer; it means I care about the quality of the show I give my fans. I won't disappoint them because of my own arrogance."

Rowan replied: "Fans? What fans? Your 8,000 streams on Spotify?"

Aelin was going to murder him: "Try 800,000. If I recall correctly, your band's debut album didn't do near as good as ours. Watch yourself."

Rowan: "Ooh, you've really scared me now."

Aelin's phone rang before she could finish her response, her PR manager interrupting her tirade. She tried to cool her anger before she answered the phone, but she still snapped, "What?" into the receiver. 

"Aelin! What the hell are you doing?"

"Hey, don't look at me, Rowan started this. I'm just defending myself."

"Well, stop. Christ, Aelin, Twitter's having a field day with this. You and Rowan are going to be the main story in every tabloid by tomorrow morning. Everyone's talking about your hatred for one another."

"Whatever, it doesn't matter."

"It does matter, Aelin. This not only makes you look trashy, which is especially bad for an up-and-coming band like yours, it also reflects poorly on the label to have two of its artists fighting on a public domain."

Aelin deflated. She didn't even think of it like that. "Okay, what do we do?"

" _You_ don't do anything. I'm emailing with The Cadre's PR manager right now. We're going to have to meet in person to work out the logistics, but you and Rowan are going to have to make everyone think you're friends."

"What?" She and Rowan have not had one pleasant interaction. She doubts anyone would buy that they were friends.

"You can't take back what you've already said, so we're going to have to twist it like you two were joking around. But we can't stop there, people will think its just a ploy."

"Which it is."

"Yes, but they don't need to know that. So we're going to have to sell that you two have been really close friends ever since you started working at Terrasen Labels. That means hanging out one-on-one in public, posting photos together on social media, doing whatever you have to do to make this believable." She sighed. "Look, I'll update you tomorrow on what the plan is, but for now, just stay quiet, okay? No more social media posts."

Alien could practically hear her rubbing her temples through the phone. "Got it. For what its worth, I'm sorry?"

"Yeah, yeah. Get some sleep," she said before hanging up the phone.

Aelin tried to sleep, but she couldn't stop thinking about how they were going to pull this off. Rowan was a prick; there was no way she convincingly act like she enjoys spending time with him. She wouldn't be surprised if he outright refused the plan their PR teams had created, what with his egotism. Stardom really went to his head. 

Aelin imagined going out to get coffee with Rowan Whitethorn for all of one second before she smashed her pillow on top of her face and turned her brain off for the night. She would deal with all of this in the morning.


	2. Chapter 2

Aelin tried to get some sleep, but her phone's incessant buzzing kept her up for hours. Eventually, she just powered it off completely, which seemed like a smart move at the time, but the influx of notifications coming through as she started it up again was overwhelming. Her phone was practically seizing in her hand as it tried to catch up on all of the alerts she had gotten throughout the night. 

She had turned off the notifications to her social media a long time ago, since fans were constantly tagging her in photos and edits they made. Aelin made it a point to try to respond to her fans when she could- she wanted them to know just how grateful she was for their support, how honored she was that they liked her and the band enough to dedicate posts and even full accounts to them- but she couldn't handle seeing the sheer amount of posts to sift through every day. It was far easier to keep the alerts off, keep herself sane, and interact with the fans when she was in the headspace to do so. But she had left the notifications for when media outlets mentioned her or the band on, and her PR manager was right: the press was all over her and Rowan's squabble. 

Aelin groaned. Her face was plastered on every news site that covered pop culture, the titles varying from **Aelin and Rowan's Twitter Dispute** to **The Real Bitch Behind Bitch Queen**. She didn't bother to read any of them; she knew what they were going to say, and she figured if her PR team was going to spend their morning scanning these, there's no reason to let their work go to waste. 

As she expected, Rowan was less than thrilled about their new arrangement. She woke up to a seething text from him where he hurled a whole host of insults at her that essentially boiled down to him blaming her "childishness and immaturity" for getting them into this situation. She quickly reminded him that he tweeted her first, and that had he not felt the need to boost his frail masculine ego, she wouldn't have needed to obliterate him on a public forum. 

There was no way they could pull this off. They hadn't even started and they were already at each other's throats. 

A knock on her door pulled her from her phone. Aelin tugged a robe over her silky nightgown, glancing through the peephole before sighing and swinging the door open. "Aedion, haven't we had the conversation about early morning visits?"

"Ah, yes, I believe you promised to tear my balls off and feed them to me last time," he said, not looking near as frightened by her threat as he should. "But I brought an offering to the death god in hopes that she'll spare her favorite cousin." He bowed his head dramatically, a brown paper bag dangling from his proffered hand. 

She snorted, snatching the bag from his hand and inspecting its contents. The chocolate croissant inside smelled heavenly. She glanced back up at him, eyebrow raised expectantly. Rolling his eyes, Aedion produced a steaming cup of coffee from behind his back. 

She grinned. "I will accept this gift as a symbol of my benevolence, but I will not always be this generous," she warned, pointing a finger at him before ushering him inside. 

He pushed his sunglasses up as he walked, the metal wiring pinning his long blond hair out of his face while he plopped down at her kitchen table. "So, has Yrene called you yet?'

Aelin winced. Her PR manager was an angel, and Aelin had the decency to feel bad for the nightmare she was giving her. "No, but I'm expecting her any minute. Have you talked to her?

"Yeah, she filled me in on the scheme last night. It's not a bad plan, Ace."

"It's not bad, it's stupid," she complained, grabbing a plate for the pastry before joining him. "No one with two working eyes will ever believe that Rowan and I are friends. I don't think he's ever once smiled at me."

He looked at her quizzically. "Why do you hate each other so much, anyway?"

"I'd tell you if I knew. The first time we met he glared at me like I'd just killed his dog, and then every day since he's been downright belligerent when he sees me." Her temper was slowly rising as she recounted Rowan's actions. He really was a bastard. "And I might write it off as him being naturally cold- which he is, don't get me wrong- but he's at least polite to all the other members of the band, friendly, even, with the members of his own, yet he practically snarls if I get within ten feet of him."

Aedion ponders this for a moment, before saying, "Maybe he just thinks you're hot and is too emotionally stunted to properly convey his burning attraction to you."

Aelin growls at him, wadding up her napkin and hurling it at him. "Fuck you, prick. I was being serious."

"So was I!" he says, raising his hands in defense. "You never know, Ace, men are a supremely fucked-up species."

"Trust me, I've seen what it looks like when men are attracted to me. There's no way to spin his attitude into some repressed desire, even though my stunning looks do make that an understandable conclusion." She props her chin up on her fist. "Maybe that's why he's so volatile all the time; whatever issues he has are depriving him of the joy my beauty brings. 

Aedion snorts. "Glad to see this whole situation hasn't dimmed your spirits." He glances at his watch, mumbling a curse as he slides his shades on again and pushes out of his seat. "I've gotta run. Damage control waits for no man."

"A manager's work is never done," Aelin sighs, clutching her hand to her chest. He flips her off on his way out. 

Aelin sets her coffee down to clear her plate, her head still hot from thinking about Rowan. She had spent countless nights trying to figure out what she had done to him and always came up blank. He seemed predisposed to hate her, no matter how nice she was. And she was nice, at first, but he made it clear he had no intention of being agreeable, and she wouldn't fall at the feet of some asshole who thinks they're god. If he wanted to be hostile towards her, she'd give it back tenfold. 

Yrene's call finally came ten minutes later. "I've been talking with The Cadre's PR team all night," she said, "and I think we've come to a consensus about the plan. You have about seven weeks before you'll be leaving for the tour, so between now and then you and Rowan will have to convince the public you're friends. For this to be believable, there's going to have to be a balance between public outings and private meetings that you two publicize, namely through social media."

Aelin groaned. "I understand why we're concerned about this, but isn't there a possibility this whole thing will just fade away on its own? I mean, the media's always jumping onto a new story, they'll probably forget about this by tomorrow."

"True, but the media also loves to pick people apart. Even if people forget it for a moment, it will likely get dredged up again and again. But even if that wasn't true, these orders are straight from Maeve, so if you want to keep your job, you've got no choice."

Aelin swore. Their boss was a notorious hardass, and she happened to really care about her label's reputation. Bitch Queen chose to sign with her because she was huge in the business, as good of a shot as they would get at making it, and she had promised them a lot of artistic freedom, but there had been rumors of her meddling in her artists' lives in order to create the image she wants. Aelin supposed the rumors were true, then. 

Yrene sighed across the line. "I'm going to send you a picture of the schedule we planned out. Everything is a little flexible, but for the most part, try to adhere to the plan. You two are set to meet this afternoon for coffee."

"I don't think I can pull this off, Yrene. Have you ever met that man? He's quite literally the most disrespectful, ill-tempered person I have ever met. We'll get in a fistfight before the day is over."

"You'd better not, Aelin, if you value your career. Maeve doesn't take well to people who don't listen to her. She won't hesitate to blacklist you, not to mention the legal issues she can get you in, since, in case you've forgotten, you gave your image to her when you signed that contract. Rowan knows this, too, so he should be on his best behavior. Get in touch with him so you're on the same page for this afternoon; I'll call later tonight to see how it went." She could hear Yrene's soft smile. "I know it will be hard, but it will be over before you know it."

"Okay, fine," she grumbled, exchanging goodbyes with her PR manager before flopping onto her couch. This was going to be the worst two months of her life. 

\-------------------------------------

The coffee shop was surprisingly deserted, considering it was downtown LA on a Friday afternoon. The few patrons were scattered on the couches and tables, most with earphones in and laptops open. They all shot her what they thought, she assumed, were discreet glances, but she could feel all of their eyes on her as she hurried towards the hunched male in the corner, his scowl already in full effect. 

She plastered her fakest grin. "Good to see you too, Rowan." He dragged his eyes up to hers, and she could see him physically force down his revulsion, offering her the sorriest excuse for a smile she could imagine. She almost laughed. 

She could hear the shutter of cameras clicking as they embraced, his arms hanging stiffly around her back. "You could try a little harder," she hissed in his ear. 

"I'm doing as good as can be expected, given my subject," he shot back. She dug her fingernails into his shoulder blades in warning, but was stopped from responding by a shaky voice from behind them. 

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to bother you, but... are you Rowan Whitethorn? And Aelin Galathynius?" The girl was young, no older than eighteen. She was standing in front of two other people, a boy and a girl, who were both staring at them in amazement. 

"Yes, we are," Aelin said warmly, extending her hand to the girl. "It's really nice to meet you. What are your names?"

"I'm Rachel," the first girl said, "and this is Bryan and Katie."

Rowan stepped up next to Aelin, shaking each hand as she dropped it. "Are you guys fans?" Rowan asked.

Rachel flushes under his attention. "Oh, yes. I thought _Doranelle_ was a masterpiece."

Rowan inclined his head at her compliment, a small smile playing on his lips. Aelin looked over at him in shock. He wasn't being _warm_ exactly- she didn't think it was in his nature to be- but he was being far more agreeable than she'd ever seen him. 

"And we loved _Fire-breather_ too." she said, turning towards Aelin. "Bryan got us into Bitch Queen, and now Katie and I are hooked! We actually have tickets to see your show in a few months!"

The excitement in Aelin's voice was not feigned. "Oh my god, no kidding! Well, I guess I'll see you guys there!"

"Of course, we're really excited. Well, we don't want to take up all of your time, but could we grab a few photos?"

She glanced over at Rowan, who was watching her with an unreadable look in his eyes. She took his lack of objection as a yes. "Yeah, definitely!"

The interaction had drawn everyone else in the store over, nearly twenty minutes passing in a parade of photos and handshakes. They were finally able to sit down, though Aelin could feel everyone still staring at them, and they scanned the menu in silence. After giving their orders to an awestruck waiter, Rowan sat back in his chair, seemingly content to sulk through the rest of their meeting, but Aelin knew they would have to put on a more convincing front if this act was to be believed. 

Leaning forward on her elbows, Aelin asked, "So, what have you been doing, besides antagonizing me on social media?"

He leveled her with an unimpressed look. "If you think _that_ was antagonism, you're wildly unprepared for life in the spotlight. People are going to call you far worse things than inexperienced."

"Don't condescend to me, you prick. You were being combative, and you know it."

"You getting upset at me calling out your inexperience only proves my point." 

"Don't insult me for being new at this as if you yourself were not at some point."

"Being inexperienced in and of itself is not an issue. What's an issue is being inexperienced and not acknowledging that you are. It's waltzing in with a haughty attitude and acting as if you already know all there is to know."

She gritted her teeth. "I have _never_ pretended that I am more qualified or competent than any of my more experienced counterparts." He scoffed. The arrival of their coffee interrupted their conversation, both of them pulling on a kind face for the server before wheeling back on each other. "I think there's also an issue in arrogance," she continued. "In looking down your nose at everyone because you think you are god's gift to music. Acting as if everyone you see is so far beneath you that it isn't even worth your time to bother with them."

"And that's what I do, is it?"

"Yes, that's exactly what you do. You think just because you're talented that you are better than everyone else."

"I'm sorry, would you like me to cater to your delicate ego? You need me to coddle you, to pat you on the back every time you do something right? That's not my job. That's not anyone's job. This industry isn't sunshine and rainbows, Princess. It's highly competitive, and if you want to stand a chance here, you're going to have to thicken your skin."

Aelin closed her eyes, filling her lungs to their capacity as she pushes her anger down. They need to look calm, need to look like _friends_ , and Aelin was ten seconds away from smashing his face against the wall. She takes a long sip of her coffee before saying, "We're supposed to be friends, right? So can't we try to be friendly?"

"You're the one who came after me, if you don't remember."

Her smile threatened to falter, but she refused to fall into his game. "Let's just start over. What do you like to do, when you're not working on music?"

"I'm always working on music."

"Except when you're not. What do you do then?"

He stared at her for a long moment, his harsh eyes boring into hers before he mumbled, "Surf," so quietly that she barely heard him.

"You like to surf?" He gave her a look at that said _That's what I just said, idiot_. "I've always wanted to learn. I grew up in Sacramento, so there wasn't really ample opportunity, but now that I'm in LA maybe I should take it up."

"Maybe you should find your own hobby."

She barely refrained from slamming her palm onto the table. "Seriously, Rowan, what is your issue? I'm trying here."

"I don't want to play nice with you, Aelin. We're here to do a job, so let's just skip the pleasantries."

"Fuck you, Rowan." She checked her watch; they'd been here for almost an hour. Aelin was willing to call that enough for today. She wanted to storm out dramatically, but she knew they were still being watched, still being photographed. Throwing some cash onto the table, she stood, Rowan following suit. She pulled him into the briefest embrace she could manage before striding for the door. 

There was no way she would be doing this again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the calm before the storm ;) this chapter's a little shorter, hope you guys are liking the fic!!!!!

She did it again. 

The conviction Aelin had when she left the coffee shop was real, but the more space she put between herself and Rowan, the more good sense began to chip away at her resolve. As demeaning as meeting with Rowan was, Aelin would never forgive herself if her actions stunted the growth of the band, so even though everything in her revolted at the idea, she kept up their act. Aelin would sacrifice her dignity if it meant keeping her career.

The plan seemed to be working. In the past couple of weeks, she and Rowan's newfound "friendship" had been making the rounds in the gossip mill. News outlets had stopped highlighting their animosity and instead started speculating about their closeness. She was constantly being tagged in articles sporting headlines like **All The Signs We Missed in Aelin and Rowan's Relationship** and **The Friendship We Didn't Know We Needed**. It annoyed her to no end, but it was better than the alternative, so Aelin didn't say anything. 

Their PR teams had released a statement two weeks ago assuring everyone that she and Rowan's Twitter spat was simply two friends making good-natured jabs at each other, saying that it was "in the nature of their relationship" to mock and taunt one another, and that they hated that their teasing had been misinterpreted.

The statement was the easy part: a one-time comment to clear the air. Their hang outs were far more difficult. The balance of time between visits was a delicate one- if they met too frequently, it would be obvious they were trying to spotlight their friendship for the media's benefit; if they met too sparingly, people would assume their few meetings were just to get everyone off their backs. Both of these things were true, of course, but they couldn't have people _knowing_ that. They needed their relationship to feel as organic as possible, so they spaced the visits out, varying the schedule so it would appear seemingly random to any assessing eyes. Their PR teams also sent them out with other members of the bands in an attempt to make their outings seem more natural and commonplace. If they were seen with only each other and no one else, it would be apparent that they were just trying to dig themselves out of a hole.

That's how Aelin ended up in a patio seat at Mistward with Lysandra. Not that she needed an excuse to get lunch with her best friend, but this specific meeting had been mandated by Yrene. 

Aelin didn't mind this part of the plan- she loved hanging out with her friends. She had already formed solid relationships with the girls, and she was on her way to making a real connection with Fenrys and Gavriel. Lorcan was a piece of work, but Aelin didn't see much progress on that front coming anytime soon. They tolerated each other because of Elide, but didn't really interact outside of her, and that was fine by Aelin. 

She was tracing shapes on the smooth wooden table they were eating at as she shoveled her salad into her mouth. Across from her, Lysandra was staring at her phone with wide eyes, not even breaking her gaze as she lifted her fork to her mouth. 

"I swear to God, Lys, you better not be reading fanfiction about me again."

That was the other issue with their little arrangement- while some people had taken the bait and believed Rowan and Aelin were friends, others had read their closeness in a more... extreme way. The dating rumors started almost immediately, spinning all their outings into dates and twisting their earlier hostility into unresolved sexual tension. 

There had been plenty of articles on _that_ as well, and once the speculation circulated, fans jumped in with both feet. Within days there had been thousands of photo and video edits of them, hundreds of fanfictions, and a trending hashtag. When she first saw it, Aelin thought she might have laughed had she not felt the violent urge to be sick. Her and _Rowan_ , dating? They had done nothing to show any genuine affection, unless they were counting the stiffest hugs known to man. 

Lysandra looked up at her, her mouth hanging open as she shook her head in incredulity. "I'm sorry, A. It's just so enthralling."

"It is not enthralling, it's disturbing. The fact that people think me and Rowan fucking Whitethorn are in a relationship is insulting."

"I think it's kind of cute." At her glare, Lys shot Aelin a defensive look. "What? It's obvious you two have chemistry, and the fans are interested in your life! Plus, the stories they write are really flattering towards you."

"Me and Rowan do not have _chemistry_." 

Lysandra smirked at her, as if she had anticipated Aelin getting hung up on that part, had planned on it. "You most certainly do. You've got that whole I-hate-you-but-would-fuck-you-if-you-asked thing going." 

"I do not want to fuck him. I hate him. He's a selfish prick who thinks far too highly of himself." She knew Lys was teasing, but she couldn't help the little flare of indignation in her chest. As _if_ she had such little self-respect that she would pursue someone who treated her so terribly. Even if he was gorgeous, objectively. 

"You're attracted to him."

"Lies and slander." 

"Look, I'm not saying you're in love with the guy, I'm just saying he's hot, and you know it."

"He's an asshole."

"So? Being hot and being an asshole aren't mutually exclusive."

Aelin scrunched her nose up, dragging her hand over her face. "Why are we even talking about this?"

Lysandra threw her hands up. "Fine, fine. When do you meet with him again?"

"Tomorrow. That picture sated everyone for a while, but now we're back at it." 

Rowan had posted a picture of her last week, a candid shot of her grimacing as she cleaned up some coffee she had spilled, captioned " **can't take her anywhere** ". She wanted to be mad at him for it, but it was a little funny, so she let it slide. It had blown up in minutes, fans commenting things like **god I ship them so much it's not even funny** and **you just know they're hooking up**. It made Aelin want to bang her head against the wall. 

"What are you guys going to do?"

"He's supposed to come over to my place. We're having a movie night!" she said, voice dripping with mock enthusiasm. 

"Is it weird? Hanging out alone with him?"

"Very." Aelin widened her eyes in emphasis. "At least when we're in public, he has to put on an air of politeness. When it's just us, there is no one to perform for, and he has no qualms dropping the pretense. A lot of times he barely speaks to me at all. I try to provoke him into talking to me, and sometimes he just ignores me, but sometimes we end up arguing, like always. We've yet to have a civil conversation."

Lys winces. "Sounds like fun." Aelin grunts her agreement. "Well, at least you'll be able to cut back on the hang-outs with rehearsals starting next week, right?"

Aelin nodded. Bitch Queen started rehearsing for their tour next week, and Aelin was ecstatic. Not just because it meant less time to spend with Rowan, which Yrene had promised, since Aelin would have other obligations and they had already started seeing results, but because she couldn't wait to start the tour. She missed playing shows, and she was excited to see the fans. They were starting rehearsals a little earlier than they really needed to, but since this was their first tour, the label wanted to make sure they were as prepared as possible. They would start running through the songs they would play, picking and arranging any covers, and running through the show as a whole to feel out any kinks in their performance. Aelin was practically bouncing off the walls. 

But Yrene had promised Aelin reprieve just this morning on the phone. "How do you know about that?" Aelin knew the answer, but she enjoyed making her friend squirm. 

Lysandra flushed, ducking her head and letting her long brown hair shield her face. "Aedion stopped by this morning," she mumbled. 

"Oh, did he." Aelin cocked an eyebrow at her friend, who only blushed more. 

_That_ had been building for years. Aedion had moved in with Aelin and her parents after his mother died, and Lys had practically lived at their house, avoiding her shitty home life. The two had known each other for ages, and had been attracted to each other since either of them knew what sexual attraction was. But for some godforsaken reason, they both refused to acknowledge their mutual feelings. 

"Nothing happened, he was just saying hello," Lysandra murmured. 

"Oh, and did he go say hello to Elide, too? Or Manon?"

Lys just glared at her. 

"And really, he could have said hello in a text. Why would he-"

"Shut up!" She threw the crust of her sandwich at Aelin, who burst into laughter. Lysandra pretended to be angry, but eventually, she started laughing too.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rowan had shown up at her apartment ten minutes ago, meeting her with an empty glare. She swung the door open for him and he trudged in, kicking his black boots off by the door. They looked designer. Pretentious bastard. 

They had met one-on-one a couple of times already, but it never became less uncomfortable. Aelin didn't want to spend any more time with him than she had to, so she jumped right in on the movie options. He stopped her on _The Sixth Sense_. 

"I've never seen it." He shrugged.

She gaped at him. "Who neglected you enough to never show you _The Sixth Sense_?"

He wasn't amused. He just glowered at her before turning away, nestling his large frame in the corner of her couch. Not in the talking mood tonight, it seemed. 

Aelin popped popcorn while he started the movie up, tossing him a water bottle as she planted herself on the couch, putting a space too large to be unintentional between them. Tucking her legs underneath her, Aelin snuggled into the cushions as the opening scene started. She loved this movie, and it had been years since she'd seen it. 

She found herself sneaking glances at Rowan throughout the movie. She didn't know why, but she wanted to see how he reacted, how he felt as he watched it for the first time. He kept his face solemn, but minute changes gave his feelings away. She watched his brow crease as Malcolm was shot, the corner of his mouth quirk up as Cole delivered the iconic _I see dead people_ , his jaw slacken as the plot twist finally landed. 

When the credits roll in, she turned to gauge his reaction. A smile crept on her face. "You liked it."

He glanced at her. "It was okay."

"You liked it!"

He rolled his eyes, but there was no bite behind it. And he wasn't denying it. A sick satisfaction flooded through her at that, which was weird; it wasn't like it was _her_ movie or something. But she liked that he liked it.

In the middle of the movie, she had snapped a photo of Rowan's side profile as he shoveled popcorn into his mouth. She quickly uploaded it, putting the caption **A _Sixth Sense_ virgin no more**. She threw her phone across the cushion as the likes started rolling in. 

He set the popcorn bowl in her sink before starting to slip on his shoes. "You're on movie duty next time," Aelin said. "No need to be nervous. I know I found you a fantastic movie that you loved, but we can't all have above par taste. I'll cut you some slack."

He shot her a look she couldn't decipher. "I'm pretty sure _I_ decided on _The Sixth Sense_."

"Ah, yes, but _I_ provided it as an option."

He looked as if he wanted to laugh, but he didn't. Whatever humor was dancing in his eyes vanished, his cold gaze slamming back into place. Pulling his coat up to his throat, he yanked the door open. "Goodnight, Aelin."

"Goodnight." She had barely finished the word before he was slamming the door. 

She couldn't help but realize that they hadn't fought at all tonight. And maybe that meant something.


	4. Chapter 4

As much as she loved them, rehearsals were draining Aelin to her core. The girls would spend hours locked in the studio hammering out the details of the show, picking songs to cover and arranging and rearranging the setlist. Aelin was beyond excited about the tour, and was taking in every step of the process with wide eyes and eager hands, but it was _so_ tiring. She couldn't imagine how exhausted she would be once they actually started performing. 

Once they got the setlist locked in they would be able to move into real rehearsals. They haven't finalized the setlist, but they were close. They had the order of their songs mapped out, but they kept disagreeing on what cover to play. Aelin was pushing for Rainbow Kitten Surprise's "Devil Like Me," but Manon insisted that it was too chill to fit in with their style. Aelin thought that could be a good thing; a slower tune would vary their sound and give the fans something different. Manon wanted "Take Me Out" by Franz Ferdinand, but Aelin thought that was a basic cover song. Manon said it was basic for a good reason, and it would engage the crowd. At an impasse, they called for the other girls' opinions, but Lysandra and Elide had been on the fence, seeing the positives in both options. They decided to sleep on it another night and reconvene in the morning. 

They played a little before leaving to break some of the tension, and Aelin had to admit, it helped calm the irritation burning through her veins. She let herself get lost in the familiar melodies, let the drumbeat drown out her swimming thoughts. Planning a tour and perfecting her performance could wait until tomorrow; right now, in that studio room, they were playing for themselves and no one else. They weren't trying to impress the label, weren't trying to cater to fans, weren't trying to prove their skill to themselves. They were just playing. A lot of that simple joy got lost along the way to stardom, but Aelin refused to let that happen. Not to her, not to any of them. 

Aelin practically collapsed when she finally made it back to her apartment. Days of hard work were finally catching up to her, and she barely even made it onto her couch before she was closing her eyes. 

She woke over an hour later, the ache in her neck reminding her how stupid it had been to go to sleep on her couch. It was nearing nightfall, so Aelin scooped up her keys and bounded down to her car. She was starving, and she was big enough of a person to admit that her cooking skills were severely lacking. And even if she could cook anything edible, her kitchen was practically barren. She resolved to stop at the grocery store on her way to Panda Express. 

Her cart was overflowing as she checked out, filled with fruits and vegetables and meats, as well as some packaged sweets and chocolates. Aelin had long ago come to terms with her sweet tooth, and she didn't see a problem with a little sugar as long as she wasn't only giving her body crap, so she let herself load the cart up with junk food. A couple fans had stopped her as she shopped, talking and taking photos with her before they ran along to publish them all over the Internet. One boy had asked for her number, and she had to refrain from laughing in his face. He had guts, she'd give him that, but she would never give out her phone number to a fan, and he looked about ten years younger than her. She declined as respectfully as she could, but the poor kid still scurried away quickly, blushing beet-red.

Once she had loaded everything into her trunk, she hurried off to obtain her real objective: dinner. Panda Express had a line, as usual, but Aelin didn't mind waiting. She knew Panda Express wasn't _that_ good, and was probably really shit for you, but, call it a guilty pleasure, she loved it. She took off with her Orange chicken bowl after a half-hour, speeding home before her food went cold. Luckily, there was a Panda just a few minutes from her apartment complex, and she was pulling out her food before she even got off of the elevator. Once she got to her room, she plopped into an armchair, flipping through channels as she scarfed down her meal down. 

She had long since finished her dinner when she got Lysandra's message. **_you down for drinks at Dorian's in an hour?_**

Aelin checked the clock: 7:30. Plenty of time. **_hell yes_**.

 ** _thank god. I'm dying of boredom and in desperate need of vodka. I'm going to text the other girls_**.

 ** _let me know what they say_**. Aelin was very pleased with where this night was going. It had been forever since they'd had a girls night, and forever since they'd gotten drunk. Dorian's was their favorite bar. Aelin had found it when she first moved out to LA. She had met the owner's son when she went and the two became fast friends. His name was Dorian, his father's namesake, and he didn't really have any interest in the family business, but he stuck around anyways. He had introduced her to the manager of the bar, Chaol. She and Chaol had a thing for a minute, and it didn't exactly end well. Things were awkward for a while, but they had pretty much moved past it all now, and Aelin looked forward to seeing her friends at the bar.

 ** _they're in, but elide's insisting we invite the guys_**.

Absolutely not. **_nooooooo lys tell her she can't_**

**_she's already texted them, sorry :/_ **

Fuck. So much for a girls night. 

**_traitor_ **

**_it wasn't my idea!!!!_ **

**_but you went along with it_ **

**_come on, A, this could be fun. you like all the other guys, plus you said you and rowan were getting along now_**.

She should never have told Lysandra about that night with Rowan. **_no, I said we didn't fight, not that we got along. there's a weird middle area, and we ended up in it_**. 

**_semantics. look, no getting out of it now, so let's just try and have some fun, yeah?_ **

**_et tu, brute?_ **

Lysandra just sent her a teary emoji. Bitch. 

**_fine, fine_**.

**_yay!!!!!!!!!! see you in 45 ;)_ **

It didn't take Aelin more than 30 minutes to get ready. She always liked her makeup to be simple but striking, so she layered on some face makeup before adding smokey eyeshadow and red lipstick. She curled her hair before sweeping it up into a loose bun, pulling strands out to hang around her face and neck before she stepped into the black dress she chose for the night. The silky fabric clung to every dip and curve on her body, accentuating all the right places and making the otherwise modest outfit a little more provocative. She ordered an Uber as she put some perfume and lotion on, then slipped into her strappy heels. She rushed out the door when her phone pinged at her driver's arrival, barely remembering to grab her ID and clutch bag on her way out. 

The bar wasn't far from her complex, a ten-minute drive max, but coupled with nighttime traffic in LA, she didn't arrive until 8:45, fifteen minutes after their set time. Aelin didn't mind being fashionably late- she could make a damn good entrance- so she tipped her driver and sauntered into the bar. She spotted her friends in a booth off to the side, well into their first round of shots. "You started without me? I'm hurt."

"Aelin!" Elide shouted. She looked ready to jump up and greet her friend, but Elide was all the way in the corner, tucked under Lorcan's large arm, so she settled for a wave and a bright smile. "I'm glad you made it."

"You've got some catching up to do, Ace," Fenrys grinned. "You'd better get started now if you want to be half as wasted as me by the end of the night." 

Aelin grinned wickedly at him, and Lysandra groaned. "Don't challenge her, Fen. Aelin has no regard for her own safety. She'll give herself alcohol poisoning trying to beat you."

His smile, impossibly, widened. "Not if I get alcohol poisoning first!" he shouted, jumping up from the booth and sprinting to the bar. Aelin chuckled as she raced after him, her friends shouting their disapproval from behind her. She knew she pushed her limits sometimes, but she would never do anything too stupid. At least without one of them there. 

"Tequila shots for me and the lady, please. And then eight vodka shots for the table," Fenrys ordered. The tequila came out within seconds, and they slammed it back while they waited for the bartender to get their larger order ready. Pressing her back against the bar, Aelin surveyed the crowd. It was busy, typical of a Friday night in LA. She scanned for two familiar faces, but she didn't see Dorian or Chaol anywhere. It dimmed her spirits a little; she missed hanging out with them, and had been looking forward to seeing them after so long, but they must not be working tonight.

Turning back to her friend, she asked, "Fen, do you think 'Devil Like Me' is too slow for Bitch Queen to play?" 

"The Rainbow Kitten Surprise song? No. I mean, it's definitely a little more laid-back rhythmically than your usual stuff, but it's still your vibe, for sure."

"I think so, too, but Manon wants 'Take Me Out.'"

Fenrys wrinkled his nose at her. "Everyone covers 'Take Me Out,'"

"That's what I said!" Aelin huffed. She felt a surge of pride at his agreement. Manon was going to get her ass handed to her when they met tomorrow morning. 

When she looked back to him, he had a shit-eating grin on his face. "So, how have things been going with Rowan?"

Aelin gave him a heavy look. "He's a dick. I don't know how you two get along." Aelin's stomach twisted a little at her description of him. He wasn't a joy to be around, that's for sure, but... she didn't exactly know what to make of him anymore. 

"He'll loosen up once you get to know him. He's... a complicated man, but he's not a bad person."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "I've been getting to know him for weeks. He's not exactly interested in my friendship."

He shrugged as he slid his hand under the tray of shots. "You should just give him a chance, is all I'm saying." 

Aelin didn't know what Fenrys was playing at. She liked to form her own opinions of people, and Fen's meddling had her guard up. Walking back to the table, her eyes drifted straight to Rowan. He was sitting in the middle, bracketed by Lorcan and Elide on the left and Gavriel on the right. He was scowling at the table, sitting in silence while the other chattered around him. Part of her hoped he would feel her gaze and look up. He didn't. 

She and Fenrys sat on the other side of the booth, Aelin sliding in next to Lysandra and Manon before Fen plopped onto the end seat. Everyone scrambled to get their drinks, and once everyone had a shot in their hand, they threw them back simultaneously. Elide was gagging at the taste of vodka, Lorcan smiling amusedly at her. Lys was already looking tipsy, folding Aelin into a big hug and babbling on about how much she loved her. Lysandra was an affectionate drunk, and the biggest lightweight Aelin knew. 

Fen kept getting them shots, and they kept downing them, and before she knew it, Aelin was well on her way to being drunk. She didn't even try to object when Lys shoved Fenrys out of the booth and dragged her onto the dance floor. Not that she minded; she wasn't shy, and she knew she put on a good show. They pushed themselves through the throng of people, finding a decent space before they started dancing, jumping and twirling around each other.

When she looked back, Aelin saw Elide tugging Lorcan onto the floor, Fenrys and Gavriel suspiciously missing. She got the feeling Fen left to dance as soon as she did, and Gavriel probably followed. Manon and Rowan were talking, but eventually, Manon stood and joined them. The three of them moved to the beat, dripping in sweat but grinning all the same.

A hand on her shoulder spun her around, bringing her close to the smiling face she had been hoping to see. "Dorian!"

She launched herself into his arms, his laughter deep in her ear as he held her tight. "It's good to see you, Ace."

She pulled back and grabbed his shoulders. "Is Chaol here?"

"No, he's off tonight. Bet he's sorry now, since I get to see you and he doesn't. I'll be sure to rub it in."

Aelin threw her head back in laughter. Her old friend pulled her to the bar so they could catch up over whiskey. She filled him on all the planning they'd done for the tour, as well as all the books she'd read since they last saw each other. Books were one of their favorite topics, and one of the things that had drawn them together in the first place. Aelin was hard-pressed to find someone who loved reading the way she did, but she had met her match with Dorian. 

She was lost in their conversation when she spied someone glowering at them from over Dorian's shoulder. Rowan was still at the booth, sitting by himself and nursing a scotch. His lip curled up as he watched her, but he quickly turned away before downing the rest of his drink. 

Aelin didn't know why, but she had the sudden urge to go over to him. Grabbing Dorian by the hand, she politely made her exit. He had business to attend to anyway, so it wasn't an issue. She pulled him into a tight hug before he left, promising to make plans to hang out soon. He smiled brightly at the proposition. 

She was definitely buzzed, halfway to wasted, but her head felt clear as she walked over to Rowan. He looked at her approaching figure over his glass, his eyes giving nothing away. She felt loose, felt like she wanted to grin at him, but some nagging voice in her head said that wasn't a good idea, so she didn't. She just flopped onto the bench across from him and looked at him. She felt content, just gazing at him and letting her mind spin. She didn't know why he looked so sullen; she felt euphoric, and he should too. 

"Can't drop the sad and broody act for one night?" She joked, flashing him a smile. He didn't even look up at her. She swallowed, undeterred. "You shouldn't sit by yourself over here. If you're not careful, there will be photos of you drowning your sorrows plastered all over the Internet, and you'd hate that."

"Don't hurt yourself, Aelin. I don't need your charity," he growled. 

"What? I wasn't-"

"Don't bother, okay? This isn't one of our required outings, so let's not put ourselves through more misery than we have to."

Aelin recoiled a little. It's not like she was expecting a hug and a slap on the ass, but... she had thought they'd made some progress the other night. If they weren't friends, she thought they would at least be cordial to each other. But it seems she had painfully misread it all. 

Anger flooded through her veins. "What the hell is your problem with me? I was just trying to be nice, why do you have to be such an asshole?"

It seemed Rowan was looking for a fight tonight. "What's my problem with you? My problem with you is that you act like everything is owed to you. You walk into a room like everyone should bow down to you, should kiss your feet for gracing them with your presence, and you act like a petulant child when one thing doesn't go your way. I hate to break it to you, but you aren't that important, or interesting."

Aelin scoffed in disbelief. The other night was definitely a fluke. " _I'm_ a petulant child? Is your fucking god complex so huge that you can't see how hypocritical that is? You're the one who took to Twitter to attack me, unprovoked, and the one who throws a fit every time you have to spend time with me. And don't pretend you have an actual reason behind your hatred of me, because you disliked me the moment I walked into the studio."

"You're right, I did, because I've seen a thousand others like you, and you're all the same. Amateurs, who've had everything handed to them and think that everyone around them lives to cater to their interests. People who have no idea what hard work and perseverance is, who have never actually had to deal with something difficult and have no idea what it takes to really survive in the world, and definitely not the industry."

She looked at him in incredulity. The idea that she hadn't worked to reach this point, that she hadn't overcome things to get where she is was so disrespectful that Aelin had half a mind to slap him across the face. She was lucky enough to have supportive parents, but she had no prior connections in the industry. Bitch Queen started from the very bottom and worked their asses off to get big. But beyond that, there was _Sam_ -

She glared at him, her lip curling in distaste as she surveyed the man before her. "You're an immature, unprofessional bastard. You look down on everyone you speak to, and you assume things about people and take your own presumptions as gospel. You don't know a damn thing about me, or about what I've been through." 

She refused to let him see the emotion in her eyes, refused to show him that what he said struck a nerve. If he knew, he would use it again and again to hurt her, and she couldn't take that kind of taunting, not about this. Not about him. 

Rowan waved his hand. "Go cry about it to someone who cares."

She couldn't believe she had thought of him warmly since the other night, couldn't believe she had thought there was an ounce of kindness in him. She wasn't usually this wrong about people. "You're a mean drunk."

"No, I'm just a mean person," he said, but it sounded like he was talking more to himself than to her. 

She whirled on her heel, ready to go home. Fighting seemed to have sobered her up, all the giddiness abandoning her, leaving only a heavy weight in its place. She strode over to her friends, finding Manon's silver hair easily. She and Lys had linked up with Elide and Lorcan, the four dancing and yelling with each other. At the sight of Aelin's face, they all halted. She didn't even want to imagine what she looked like right now. "I'm going to head out. Just wanted to let everyone know."

Lysandra's eyes glittered with cold fury. "The fuck did he say to you?" Aelin just shook her head, looking down. 

Elide glanced over at Lorcan worriedly before rushing up to her friend, grasping her arm. "We'll all go."

"You don't have to-"

"No, no, we've been here for a while anyway, plus we have rehearsal in the morning." 

Aelin looked up at her friend before nodding. Elide just smiled, linking her arm in Aelin's. Manon and Lysandra were both sending murderous looks to Rowan, but let themselves be tugged away from the dance floor. After a quick goodbye to the guys, whose questioning eyes were silenced by Elide's sharp look, the girls stumbled outside, the others still a little tipsy from the night's escapades. 

"Why don't we all stay at your place, A?" Lysandra asked. 

"You don't have to babysit me, guys. I'm fine."

None of them looked convinced, but no one objected. "I know that," Lys said, "but you know I hate to be alone when I'm drunk. Please? It'll be like old times."

Aelin knew this was all for her benefit, but she acquiesced anyway. She could use a little comfort from her best friends. And as she fell asleep with Lysandra's arm wrapped around her stomach and Manon's hair splayed across her legs, she let the pain of Rowan's words, the pain of the memories they brought with them, fade back into the small box she kept them in and snapped the lid shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorryyyyyyyy hahaha my brain's evil but things will start to get better soon!! hope you guys are doing well and liking the fic is far :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you guys can have a little rowan pov, as a treat :) but his part isn't super long bc I don't want to spoil anything hehehe
> 
> also I've really been on my writing grind bc this fic has been so fun to write!! and I want to really thank all of you for reading and commenting, I'm so grateful that you guys like it and all of the support has been so encouraging!! love you guys :)

They decided on "Devil Like Me." Whether the girls actually agreed with Aelin's reasoning or if they were just taking pity on her after last night's ordeal, she didn't know, but she counted it as a victory all the same. They had asked about her discussion with Rowan last night, but she didn't offer much up. She didn't feel like airing out their dirty laundry, and she didn't feel like recounting all of the emotions he had drawn from her. She had hinted at it dealing with Sam, and they had let it drop quickly. They knew not to push her too much on that front, but she didn't miss the icy rage in their eyes, even Elide's. 

Lying on the couch in the studio room, Aelin stared at the smiling boy on her lock screen. Sam had always kept his brown hair just a little too long, no matter how she nagged at him to get it trimmed. He had the cheesiest smile, so big it took over his entire face. She had taken the photo during their junior year, their US history books sprawled on the table behind him as he propped his head on his fist, grinning at her. If only she had known he wouldn't make it to graduation, wouldn't even make it to summer. She wiped away the tears pooling in her eyes before the girls could see them. 

She knew Rowan didn't know about Sam, didn't know how hard his words would hit her, but it didn't make her any less upset. He hadn't even explicitly said anything about her past, but the implications of his assumptions were clear. She had been disconsolate for months after Sam's death, hadn't been able to leave her room for days, so for him to speak so glibly of her past, so thoughtlessly of her loss, even unintentionally, had her fuming. 

Thankfully, she still had a few days before she had to see him again. Photos of the group at the bar were still making the rounds, so they had satisfied their positive media coverage quota for a while. Thank god no one had gotten her argument with Rowan on film; it would ruin everything they had worked for, and she'd be damned if she suffered through all that time with Rowan for nothing. 

The girls were scattered across the room, Lysandra's back pressed against the couch Aelin was lying on while Elide was curled into a recliner with Manon perched on the arm. They were all scrolling through their phones, killing time while management approved the setlist. They all looked up when the door pushed open, a burly figure standing on the threshold. Elide immediately perked up at the sight of her boyfriend in the doorway. 

A frown pulled at Aelin's lips as she tilted her head at him. The Cadre wasn't at the studio today. It was Saturday, and typically the label gave artists the weekends off. Bitch Queen just really needed to start real rehearsals, so they came in to finish the setlist. He must have come up for Elide. 

Lorcan barely spared them all a glance, immediately zeroing in on Elide. "We still on for tonight?"

She blushed at his words, ducking her chin. Aelin didn't know why she was embarrassed; it's not like they didn't know she and Lorcan were dating. "Of course, we should be done here in an hour, but I'll need to go home to get ready, is that all right?"

"Of course. I'll just wait out here, and then we can head to your place when you're finished." He flashed her a private smile, making Elide blush even deeper. Aelin just furrowed her brow, looking at her friend quizzically. Looking around, she saw similar looks of confusion on the others. 

She kept her mouth shut until the door closed behind Lorcan, but then she turned to Elide. "What was that all about?" The question wasn't accusatory, she just didn't understand. 

Elide tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "What?"

"He's going to wait for an _hour_ , just to drive you to your apartment to get ready? Why doesn't he just pick you up from there when you're done?"

She dropped her gaze to the floor. "I told him about my uncle the other night, and he's been a little... protective ever since." Aelin's jaw tightened at the mention of Elide's uncle. That bastard was rotting in prison for what he did to her, but no punishment in the world was large enough for what he deserved. 

Elide had been nine when her mother passed, leaving her with no other family than her uncle in New York. They carted her across the country to live with him, where he verbally and physically abused her for years. He didn't let her have any friends, any way of contacting anyone, and all but locked her in the house for years, letting her leave for school but demanding she came home immediately after. 

In eighth grade, she fell on the stairs and snapped her ankle. Her uncle refused to let her see a doctor. Since she couldn't walk, he kept her in the house for weeks, until her foot healed itself as best as it could. Which is to say hardly at all. To this day, Elide walks with a limp, her foot twisted at an odd angle and riddled with scar tissue. It hurt her if she stood or walked on it for too long, since the bones in her foot were grinding down on each other. That was the breaking point for her, but she still didn't have a way out.

She started with band. She began learning the keyboard freshman year, and requested lessons after school with their director, telling her uncle they were required rehearsals for her grade. In her lessons, she met Manon, all sharp edges and snark to Elide's softness and docility. On paper, they should have never been friends, but somehow, they were thrown together, and it didn't take long for Manon to see something was wrong. Once she finally got it out of Elide, Manon made it her mission to get her out of that house. A year and a hell of a trial later, Elide's uncle was stuck in a state penitentiary while Elide moved in with Manon and her grandmother. She spent the rest of high school recovering from all the shit her uncle put her through, using music and Manon to heal. 

She was still healing, still had moments where she would flinch when someone set a stack of papers down too harshly or recoil when someone grasped her arm a little too tightly. She had spent years unlearning all the lies her uncle had told her about herself, but she still had days where she felt like she was a burden to all those around her, felt like she was broken and unlovable. The girls did everything they could to help her, even convincing her to start therapy, and slowly, she was starting to make some real progress. 

That story wasn't one she shared lightly; the fact that she trusted Lorcan enough to tell him was a big deal. Aelin's respect for him was steadily rising, but if he hurt her now, knowing her past,  
she'd break every bone in his body. 

"That's understandable," Aelin said at last, forcing her frown down, "but he's laying it on a little thick, don't you think?" That was another thing; Elide's uncle had smothered her, had monitored everywhere she went and everything she did. Aelin didn't know how Elide would feel about Lorcan's overprotective behavior. 

"Maybe, but it feels kind of nice. To be coddled. I'll talk to him soon, tell him to dial it down a little, because I couldn't handle this forever, but it's been nice for a little while."

Aelin was sure her heart was shattering in her chest. Elide deserved whatever would make her feel the most cared for, the most valued, and if that was Lorcan waiting an hour to drive her home she would damn well not tease her for it. 

Manon spoke up this time. "Do whatever feels right, E. But if his antics ever get to be too much, just tell me and I'll take care of it." 

"I know," Elide smiled fondly at her friend, "but I can handle this. If I need him to chill out, I can talk to him."

Manon scanned Elide's face, assessing the truth of her statement. Seemingly satisfied with what she found, she quirked her mouth up, slinging her arm over her friend's shoulder. 

They passed the time idly, strumming tunes and gossiping. When they got the okay for their setlist, Elide met up with Lorcan while the other girls walked out to the parking lot. Waving their goodbyes to Manon, Aelin and Lysandra stopped in front of their cars. 

"Are you going straight there?" Aelin asked. She and Lys were meeting Aedion at his place for a game night. A family reunion, they called it, but Aelin knew she was in for a whole evening of third-wheeling. 

"No, I have to run an errand first. I'll meet you there," Lys said, staring down at her keys.

"Do you want me to come with you?"

"No, no, it'll only take a minute. Tell him not to deal without me, because I know that bastard looks at our cards."

Aelin snorted. He definitely did. 

Waving goodbye, Aelin climbed into her car. She knew Lysandra was up to something- she couldn't look Aelin in the eye, only giving vague details about this "errand". But whatever it was, Aelin trusted her best friend. Lysandra would tell her when she was ready. So Aelin just watched her speed off into the city before starting her car up and heading in the opposite direction. 

\----------------------------------------------------

Someone was about to break Rowan's door off of its hinges. 

He was going to ignore the knocking at first, but the banging was incessant. Rowan stomped to the door before whoever it was did permanent damage to the wood. 

Swinging the door open, he was fully prepared to snarl in the face of his uninvited guest, but he stopped short at the sight of piercing green eyes glaring at him. He and Lysandra had never really talked, so why she was showing up on his doorstep, Rowan had no idea. But he knew she was pissed. 

He opened his mouth to speak, but she silenced him with a wave of her hand. "No, you're not going to talk. I'm going to talk, and you're going to listen, and once I'm finished, you will nod your head to tell me you understand, and then I'm going to leave, because I have better things to do than waste my time talking to you.

"I don't know what the hell you said to Aelin last night, but I know that it was way out of line. And I'm not stupid enough to ask you to apologize, because you're too much of an arrogant prick to feel any remorse for your actions, and Aelin wouldn't forgive you anyways." He flinched. He didn't know why, but he flinched. "I'm here to tell you to back off. I don't give a fuck whether you like her or not, but you're going to stop being a jackass for no reason. And if that concept is to complex for your pea-sized brain, then stop talking to her at all. She was broken for _months_ after Sam. We were _barely_ able to piece her back together, and she is _still_ working through it all."

Rowan didn't know what she was talking about, didn't know anything about a Sam. Until he remembered- _People who have no idea what hard work and perseverance is, who have never actually had to deal with something difficult and have no idea what it takes to really survive in the world_. 

"You have no right to speak about her past, no right to throw it in her face when you have _no_ idea what she's been through. And you sure as hell have no right to judge the way she chose to heal herself. She's confident, and snarky, and a little proud, but beneath all of that, she's struggling. And all the shit you say to her? Only reinforces all of the guilt and worthlessness she feels."

Lysandra closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath, composing herself before she finished. "Aelin doesn't like to whine about her issues to other people, so I'm sure I don't know half of the things you've said to her over the past few weeks. But if I hear so much as a rumor of you treating her like shit, I will personally come and kick your ass, public image be damned. Understood?"

Rowan wasn't easily surprised, but his lips parted as he stared at Lysandra. Her soft eyes were hard as granite, her face unyielding. He knew she could stand up for herself, but he had never seen her claws out firsthand.

He didn't know what to say. So he just nodded. 

And Lysandra left.

\------------------------------------------------------------

The weekend passed without event. After hours of watching her cousin and her best friend make moony eyes at each other and several botched attempts at cheating on Aedion's part, the three of them had fallen asleep watching some ridiculous soap opera. When Aelin awoke, she saw Lysandra's head on Aedion's shoulder, his arm wrapped around her stomach. They most certainly had not gone to sleep that way. Aelin smirked at them before going into the kitchen; Lys would be so embarrassed if she knew Aelin saw. 

Aedion's coffee was shit. He bought extra dark roast, so bitter it made Aelin gag, and he had no creamer. He claimed he liked it, but only a psychopath would willingly drink coffee that disgusting. So she went on a coffee run, grabbing a white chocolate mocha for herself and a caramel latte for Lys. She ordered croissants for them, too, and by the time she got back, both her friends were up and moving. Aelin let the scene she witnessed pass with minimal taunting. 

They split around noon, and Aelin dedicated the day to getting errands out of the way. Getting her car washed, picking up her dry cleaning, squeezing all the boring tasks that she hated into one day, but she finished with time to spare. 

She had been keeping busy, trying to keep the thoughts of Sam at bay. He didn't want to stay in the box anymore, and no matter how she fought, he was determined to make himself known. So Aelin went home, curled into bed, and let herself cry. She cried for the love she lost, cried for the suffering he endured, cried for how scared he must have been. She didn't stop crying until she passed out.

If the girls noticed the puffiness around her eyes at rehearsal that morning, they didn't say anything. They started practicing their songs today, making sure they knew them frontwards and backwards, making sure everyone's technique was ready for performance. They only got through one song, working every little detail until it sounded perfect. Aelin let herself get lost in the music, let it drown out the anxiety thrumming through her veins.

She was dreading seeing him again. She hadn't seen Rowan all weekend, and had managed to avoid him at the studio today, but they were supposed to meet for dinner tonight, and she was thoroughly considering not going. They had already changed the public opinion on their relationship, so their work was practically done. Everyone thought they were either friendly or fucking, and that was the goal. Aelin almost laughed. If only they all knew how wrong they were. 

Once she got home, Aelin settled in with a book, wanting to lose herself for a little while before she had to be Rowan's punching bag. She had just gotten comfortable when a sharp knock rang through her house. Sighing, Aelin threw the blanket off of her body and strode towards the door. 

It was probably Lysandra, wanting to offer some support before Aelin had to meet with Rowan again. Aelin loved her friend, but sometimes she could be a bit of a mother hen. Lys had seen her at her worst, had washed her hair when Aelin couldn't get out of bed, had spoken to all of her teachers and convinced them not to fail her when she didn't do any schoolwork for months, so Aelin understood her concern. But it had been years since Sam died, and while Aelin still had a lot of healing to do, she was in a better place than she had been then. She told Lysandra all the time that she didn't need to worry so much about her, but her friend never listened. 

The last thing Aelin was expecting to see was Rowan. He didn't say anything, just stood there, and Aelin blinked at him before checking her watch. They still had three hours before they were set to meet. Aelin didn't know what he doing, but she wasn't in the mood for his games. She leveled him with a look that would send lesser men running. "What do you want, Rowan?"

He was unfazed. "We need to leave soon if we want to start before nightfall," he said, tossing a ball of thick, black fabric to her. A wetsuit.

"What are you talking about?"

He looked at her for a moment, as if trying to make her out. She didn't know what to make of his expression. 

"We're going surfing."


	6. Chapter 6

He afforded her five minutes to change. Perhaps that would have been ample time, had Aelin known putting on a wetsuit was like sliding into another layer of skin. She knew it would be tight, of course, but seeing it fitted to another person's body and trying to actually put one on were completely different experiences. Her muscles were straining to pull it up over her swimsuit, the sleek fabric slipping out of her fingers, and she was fairly certain she was losing blood flow to her appendages. 

Rowan was banging on the bathroom door. She was seriously regretting letting him come inside. "Aelin, we have to go."

"Relax, Whitethorn, I'm almost done," she said, her voice shaking with exertion. She had finally squeezed herself into the suit- every wrinkle smoothed out, every piece of padding set on its corresponding body part- but now she had to zip it up, and short of dislocating her shoulder, it was unlikely she would be able to pull the zipper up to her neck. She had gotten it up to her shoulder blades and was currently trying some strange over-the-shoulder maneuvers to try to grasp it, but all were failing. 

"Do you need help zipping up?" She could hear the amusement in his voice. 

Damn him for knowing exactly what she was struggling with. "No, I've got it." 

"Are you sure? Back zippers can be a bitch."

She rolled her eyes, even though he couldn't see it. "Remind me why I didn't make you wait in the hallway?"

"Because then I couldn't do this," he said, pushing the door open and striding towards her, "and you'd sit here for an hour trying to reach the zipper when you could just swallow your pride and ask for help."

She whirled on him, surprised at his presumptuousness. "Don't lecture me about pride," she snapped. She pressed her hands against the sink. "Trust me, Rowan, I am not in the mood for your shit tonight."

He walked up behind her, his large frame engulfing hers in the mirror. His shoulders were twice as large as hers, his chin coming a bit above her head. He caught her eye in the reflection. "I wasn't trying to fight."

Aelin narrowed her eyes, assessing. She didn't know why, but she believed him. Still, she wouldn't let him off the hook that easily. "What if I had been naked?"

"You weren't." He snorted. "It's always the zipper that gets beginners, and I could practically hear you trying to reach your arm over your shoulder from behind the door."

"Maybe, but you still walked in on me uninvited. Didn't your mother teach you any manners?" 

He raised an eyebrow at her. "My mother taught me many things, manners being one of them, but I always struggled with patience. We've got to get going."

She held his gaze in the mirror for a long moment. He looked at her, glancing expectantly to the wetsuit, but there was no anger on his face, no contempt. She didn't know what he was doing, but she was getting tired of the hot-and-cold. 

Sighing, she nodded her assent, and he dropped his gaze to her back, his fingers brushing her skin as he grasped the zipper. Her breath caught in her throat at his touch. Fire shot down her spine, flowing into her fingers and toes, filling her with burning heat. He pulled the zipper up slowly, his knuckle caressing each notch in her spine as he slowly went up, up, up to the base of her neck. 

And stopped. 

And curled her hair around his fingers, sweeping it to the side, out of the zipper's path. She barely restrained a shiver as his hand brushed her neck, the touch featherlight, before zipping the remaining few inches. 

After a moment, he cleared his throat. "You should pull it up. Starting out is hectic enough, you don't need wet hair sticking to your face and blocking your vision."

She only nodded, keeping her gaze firmly planted on the floor as he left. Whatever the hell she was feeling needed to end, immediately. Admittedly, it had been a long time since she'd been with somebody; not for lack of options, but Aelin wanted a break after Chaol, and by the time she was ready to get back on the horse, the band was taking off and she had no time for sex, not to mention relationships. Her body was reacting to Rowan out of a primal need for release, wanting to scratch an itch. And he was... attractive. But she wasn't stupid. He was most definitely not interested in her, and she would not give him the satisfaction of being attracted to him. There were plenty of other people she could fulfill her needs with who didn't have massive sticks up their asses and a vendetta against her. 

She recounted every terrible thing Rowan had said to her as she braided her hair back, feeling thoroughly cooled off by the time she went out into the living room. Rowan was seated on her couch in a wetsuit of his own. "I used your guest bedroom to change." He scratched the back of his neck. "I hope you don't mind."

"How the hell did you do that so fast?" She gawked at him. 

He smirked at her. "It gets easier the more you do it." He walked out the door without another word, trusting she'd follow after him. Prick. 

His van was old-timey, all faded greens and yellows, and there were two surfboards strapped across the top. Swinging into his passenger seat, Aelin did her best to muffle her laughter. The inside was just as dated, orange fabric seats and crank windows. She bit down on her smile. 

"Something funny?"

He was opening himself up to attack, and no one had that much self-restraint. Aelin threw her head back and howled, her stomach clenching as she laughed herself hoarse. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she smiled, wiping tears from her eyes. "It's just- you're in one of the most successful bands on the scene right now. You could afford a Lamborghini, and you're driving the Mystery Machine." She burst out in a new fit of giggles. 

Rowan looked affronted. "I happen to like my car. There's lots of space, it gets great gas mileage, and I like the way it looks."

Aelin just looked at him, physically restraining herself from laughing. 

"Shut up," he said. But she could see the smile playing on his lips, and when she gave in to her laughter, so did he. 

Finally settling down, Aelin rubbed her cheeks, relaxing the strained muscles. "How come I've never seen this monstrosity at the studio?"

"I have another car. I only use this one if I'm carrying equipment or road-tripping."

"Ahh. Gotta keep up the sleek, bad-boy image, huh?"

His face shuttered at that, something in his eyes shutting down. "Something like that."

Aelin got the feeling he wasn't open to conversation anymore, so she let the rest of the trip pass in silence. Her eyes kept drifting to him, to the flex in his arms as he steered, the way he twisted to do a head-check, the way his hands toyed with the radio. She scolded herself every time, but she always ended up looking again. 

They pulled into a spot at the very back of the parking lot, the beach still surprisingly busy given the later hour. At least a hundred people were milling on the shore- swimming, lounging, soaking up the fading sunlight. Rowan detached the boards from his car, handing her one as he threw a bag over his shoulder and led the way into the sand. 

"So, what changed your mind?" she asked. 

"Huh?" It looked as if she'd snapped him out of his thoughts. 

"You know, me saying _I'd like to learn to surf_ and you saying _fuck you, Aelin, I hate you and don't want you to surf ever because I'm strangely territorial over my hobbies_."

He shot her an unimpressed look, but Aelin only cocked an eyebrow at him. Rolling his eyes, he looked forward again. "I was getting bored of dinner reservations and movie nights. Thought it'd be decent entertainment to watch you wipe out over and over again."

She whacked his arm, but he batted her hand away. Whatever sexual crisis she was having was making her forget how much of an asshole Rowan was. They weren't friends, and she wasn't going to just forget about everything he'd said to her because of a few jokes. But his ever-changing moods were confusing her. He was enjoyable, borderline fun, when he felt like it, but he could just as soon snap and start insulting her for breathing. And she wasn't sure if his good days compensated for his bad ones. 

Several people were surfing, riding the larger waves as the tide rolled in. They rode with ease, perfectly balanced on their boards, grinning like children. Aelin had been prepared to catch a wave and ride it straight back to shore, maybe angling her board a little to get more speed, but the people out in the water were twisting and turning in ways she hadn't even imagined. They were slicing through the water with moves she had never seen, a few even using their momentum to kick completely into the air, performing some kind of aerial trick Aelin was sure she would never achieve. Maybe this was a bad idea.

Her doubts must have been evident on her face because Rowan pulled her out of her thoughts. "You're not going to be doing anything like that. Those guys have been surfing for years. You'll just be getting the basics today, so stop freaking out."

He didn't wait for her response before stalking over to an empty space on the sand. Setting their boards down side by side, Rowan crouched and pulled a white cube out of his bag. He started dragging it along the board in criss-cross motions, leaving a good deal of waxy residue behind. 

"What is that?" Aelin asked.

"Surf wax," he said, not looking up from his work. "It'll keep you from slipping while you surf. Makes the board less slick and gives your feet something to grip."

He started drawing the wax downwards, over the cross-hatch lines he had made, and started explaining. "Surfing is a lot harder than it looks. It requires a good deal of forethought, rather than just swimming out and jumping on the first wave you see. Water is insecure, always moving, so it can be hard to balance on. The push-up is the hardest thing to learn for beginners; with nothing solid underneath your board, upper body strength is necessary to get you up in time to catch the wave. If you're too slow, you'll miss it, and if you waver, you'll fall."

He finished up with his board and moved on to hers. "Once you're up, balance is key. Not only do you have to keep yourself upright on the board, but you have to adapt your stance as the water moves to keep from falling. You will probably wipe out your first couple of times. That's normal. A surfing stance is different than most others, and the time-sensitivity makes it easy for beginners to panic and choke." Seemingly content with his work, Rowan threw the block down and turned to her. "That's why we're going to practice on the sand first."

"The sand?" Aelin looked around at all the people milling on the beach, doing nothing but lounging and people-watching. She had no desire to make a fool out of herself. Maybe that was Rowan's plan- to draw her out in public and make her look like an idiot. "Can't we just start in the shallows?"

He shook his head. "Practicing onshore will let you get a feel for the motions in a more secure environment, that way when you get into the water, you can focus on adapting to waves rather than the mechanics of surfing. Plus, it takes away a lot of the pressure, so it'll be easier for you to learn."

The look she gave him spoke for her. _Are you serious?_

He only raised an eyebrow. _Very. What's the problem?_

She crossed her arms. _I won't let you make me look stupid. ___

__He tilted his head at her, his brow creasing. "Do you really care that much what people think?"_ _

__The question wasn't accusatory, but she felt defensive anyway. "No. But I'm not going to deliberately make a fool out of myself."_ _

__Rowan gave her a tired exhale. "Aelin, all beginners start out this way. It's the best way to learn. No one's watching us, and even if they were, no one's judging. People do this all the time." He plopped down onto his own board, his stomach down and his hands by his sides._ _

__When she hesitated, he shot her an impatient glance. "Lie down. We don't have all day."_ _

__Shooting him a glare, she rolled onto her board. They went through all the basic motions: where to sit on the board, paddling out, prepping for a wave, the push-up, the riding stance. She got the push-up easily, but she struggled with the stance. Aelin was no stranger to physical exercise; she spent a good amount of time at the gym, had even taken up kickboxing for several years in college. It was a good way to get her aggression out, to let her feelings make their way out of her system in a safe environment. That's what her therapist said, at least. She just liked the way it felt to hit things. But a fighting stance was far different from a surfing one. Surfing centered on balancing front to back, not side to side like most other sports, so adjusting where she kept her center and overriding her instincts to shift her weight was difficult. But eventually, Rowan deemed her skills decent enough to try a wave._ _

__They paddled out together. She was running through everything he had told her in her mind, trying to picture herself executing the motions. She could feel him glancing at her periodically, likely checking her positioning, but she didn't meet his gaze._ _

__He stopped her far sooner than she would have expected. "The waves will be smaller closer to the shore, more manageable. We should practice nailing these waves before you swim out for the larger ones."_ _

__Part of Aelin rebelled at that. For some reason, she wanted to dive in headfirst, wanted to show Rowan that she could do this, that she didn't need to take it easy. But she was new at this, and she wouldn't let her ego get her hurt. She nodded._ _

__"It might be good if you watch me ride a wave first. That way, you can get an idea of what the moves look like in reality, and see what you should look like when you're enacting them."_ _

__She agreed readily. Imitating Rowan's correct motions would save them a lot of time, as opposed to her feebly attempting her own techniques and failing miserably. She swam towards the shoreline, stopping a couple of yards away to get a better angle to see him from._ _

__When the wave started approaching, Rowan began paddling towards her, barely glancing backwards before he pressed himself up just in time to catch the wave. His feet were spread about a shoulder-width apart, his hip hinged a little to keep his balance as he rode the wave in._ _

__He looked completely in his element. The black wetsuit stood stark against the paleness of his hair, the tight fabric showing every inch of corded muscle on him. The wind was blowing through his hair, the wet strands fluttering around his face, and he was beaming. Her breath caught in her throat. In all these weeks, she had never seen him smile. It was beautiful._ _

__He dove off the board when he neared her, his surfboard following him, thanks to the leash around his ankle. He wasn't smiling anymore, but there was a lightness in his eyes she had never seen. "Ready to try?"_ _

__She nodded, swimming out while he took up her place near the shore. Once she was out far enough, she waited for a wave, swinging her legs on either side of the board. As soon as one started approaching she shifted into position, lying on her stomach while she swam towards Rowan. She glanced back several times, monitoring the position of the wave before she determined it was close enough. She pressed up, jumping into position. She kept her knees soft, kept her hips angled, but somehow, she still wiped-out. The wave crashed over her, tossing her around a little before the water calmed and she rose to the surface, sputtering._ _

__Searching for a head of silver hair, Aelin found Rowan cracking up. Bastard._ _

__He was clutching his stomach as he laughed, breaking into another fit when she saw her paddling over to him. Stopping in front of him, Aelin just glared at him until he settled._ _

__"You didn't use your arms enough," he instructed. "Your balance comes from your center, yes, and you need to engage your torso to maintain that, but you also need to let your arms balance you. Remember to keep your chest sideways and your arms on either side, not stuck out in front of you. It shifts your weight too much."_ _

__She swam out over and over, and every time she wiped out. Rowan would always give her another tip, another correction, and she would paddle out again. There was always something she was forgetting, some detail she would neglect when she focused on another._ _

__They had been going for nearly an hour when she finally caught one. She pushed herself up, made sure her feet were angled correctly, made sure her hips were solid, made sure her arms were distributing her weight, and she didn't fall. The wave pushed her forward, and she shifted her posture as the water moved to keep upright as she rode it into shore._ _

__She shouted in joy as she surfed, grinning, and several people in the water whooped at her success. She dove off her board once the wave petered into foam and paddled over to Rowan, triumph burning through her blood._ _

__"I got it!" she shouted as soon as he was in range. She was ecstatic, smiling so hard her cheeks twinged. His smile was more subdued, but it was there._ _

__"Yeah, that was good. But don't get too excited. We don't know if that was a fluke. You've got to get it consistently."_ _

__She shushed him, her grin never faltering. "Stop being such a downer and let me celebrate."_ _

__Flinging her head back, Aelin laughed, feeling the adrenaline run its course through her veins. She understood why Rowan loved surfing so much. She had never felt so light, so free. She wanted to go again and again, like a kid at an amusement park._ _

__Soon, the fire in her blood faded, but the burning didn't cease. In fact, the joyful sting was turning painful, spikes of blinding agony shooting through her, radiating from her hand. She cried out in pain, pulling her hand into her chest but leaving it underwater. Searching the skin frantically, Aelin found strands of gold twined in her fingers. Following them to their source, Aelin found them attached to a brownish-gold blob. A jellyfish._ _

__She heard Rowan behind her, asking what's wrong, grasping her shoulder to get her attention, but she couldn't think of anything but the jellyfish wrapped around her hand. She flung it wildly, not knowing what else to do, and eventually the animal detached from her skin and swam away. Whether it left of its own volition or from her flailing, she didn't know, but she didn't spare it much thought as she cradled her hand, tears pouring down her cheeks._ _

__Rowan pushed in front of her, scanning her for the injury. Grasping her forearm, he pulled her hand away from her chest and inspected the damage. "A jellyfish sting." He looked up at her, taking in her gasping breaths and tear-stained eyes full of pain. "It's all right, this is really common. It doesn't look like there are any tentacle fragments stuck on your hand. That's good."_ _

__She looked at him, shock slowly giving way to alarm. "Well, what do I do about it? Do I need to go to the hospital?"_ _

__"No, no, it doesn't look like the dangerous kind of sting. It'll hurt for a while, but you'll be fine." She could tell he was trying to soothe her, but it seemed like he had little experience in calming someone whose crying. He looked vaguely uncomfortable. "Come on, let's get out of here."_ _

__The stinging hadn't eased with the removal of the tentacles, still sending white-hot bursts of pain through her. Her tears had slowed, but not stopped. Paddling out of the water hadn't hurt as much as she expected, the water cool against her burning skin. When they exited the ocean, Rowan grabbed his bag before hurrying to the parking lot, Aelin clutching her arm the entire way there._ _

__Rowan started up the car, probably wanting her off his hands as soon as possible. She turned to grab her seatbelt, but her left hand had been injured, and her right hand was too close to the belt to pull it across her without some serious maneuvering. Noticing her struggle, Rowan reached over her and buckled it for her, her arm brushing hers as he pulled the fabric down._ _

__Settling his hands on the wheel, Rowan stopped. And laughed._ _

__She couldn't believe him, laughing at her pain. Actually, she could, but it still pissed her off. "Are you serious? I'm in pain, and you're laughing at me?"_ _

__"I'm sorry, it's just-" he choked out, "Literally ninety percent of your body is covered, and you _still_ managed to get stung by a jellyfish." He burst into laughter again._ _

__She'll admit, it was kind of funny. She wasn't going to confess that to him, but she could feel a small smile creep onto her face. "Shut the hell up."_ _

__He threw his hands up in surrender before pulling onto the street, speeding back to her place to she could attend to her wounds._ _

__"Hey, you missed my turn," she told him._ _

__"I'm not taking you to your place." At her confused stare, he continued. "I've been stung before. I can help you treat it. We'll go to mine."_ _

__It was a nice offer, since she really didn't have the first idea on what to do about a jellyfish sting, but there was no way she'd accept. She didn't know what Rowan's ulterior motives were, but she didn't want to owe him anything. "No, Rowan, you don't-"_ _

__"We're already here. It'll be fine."_ _

__She hadn't even realized, but a glance up showed her that they really were already there, pulling into Rowan's long driveway. She'd been over to his house before, for their meetings, but it never failed to stun her. It didn't fit in in L.A. at all. It looked like it belonged in the northeast, with the dark red brick and crawling ivy. She followed him inside, sliding into one of his armchairs while he got the materials. His massive flat screen took up a good portion of the living room, but it was bracketed on both sides by built-in bookshelves that Aelin adored. The dark gray paint and the hardwood shelves were so beautiful, and his library was well-stocked._ _

__He returned in minutes, kneeling in front of her as he pulled her arm across her knees, presenting her hand for his ministrations. He set a bucket down beneath her hand and pulled out a squeeze bottle filled with some kind of liquid. She recoiled as soon as he started drizzling it on her skin, yelping in pain._ _

__"What the hell was that?"_ _

__"Vinegar."_ _

__" _Vinegar_?"_ _

__He leveled her an irritated look. "Yes, Aelin, vinegar. You need it to disinfect the wound and to deactivate the sting cells. Unless you'd rather be writhing in pain for the next few hours."_ _

__She glowered at him but gave him her hand again. He doused her injury for nearly a minute, and she gritted her teeth through the burning pain. When he finished that part, he left to fill the tub with water in the kitchen. She nestled into the chair as she watched him rinse the vinegar out, waiting for the water to heat. He stuck his finger under the stream periodically to test the temperature, and when he was happy with it, he filled the bucket. Walking it back to her, he set the water on the couch next to her and guided her hand into it, the heat soothing her flaming skin._ _

__"Leave it in here for thirty minutes. It should help with the pain and inflammation."_ _

__"Okay." Her eyes were starting to droop. The exhaustion of hours of surfing was catching up to her._ _

__He looked her over, making sure everything was in place. "I'll get you some water."_ _

__She couldn't find the strength to nod, and she was fast asleep before he returned with her drink._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> taken from my real-life experience of being stung by a jellyfish. hurts like a mf
> 
> chapters a little longer, sorry it took me a few days to update!!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for mentions of child abuse and death

Aelin's eyes peeled open slowly, blinking rapidly as she tried to make out her surroundings. But as she braced her hands against the arms of the chair she was lying in, attempting to push herself up, everything came back to her. She barely managed to bite down on her whimper of pain; judging from the darkness visible in the windows, Aelin guessed it was late, and Rowan was probably sleeping. Aelin had already abused his kindness enough, she wouldn't wake him in the middle of the night. 

Pulling her hand away, she flopped back into the chair, easily slipping into the depression her body had made in the cushions during the hours she had lain there. She had to tell Rowan to get more comfortable furniture. This chair felt like lying on a metal sheet. 

Her hand hurt like hell, and putting all of her weight on it certainly hadn't helped matters. She tried to inspect it, but the room was too dim. The lamp on the table next to her turned on easily, illuminated the inflamed skin. The irritation seemed to have gone down; Aelin could see individual red dots and lashes trailing along her knuckles, not just a mass of redness like before. She took it as a good sign. 

Rowan must have removed her hand from the water after she had fallen asleep, since the tub was gone and her skin was completely dry. Next to the lamp was a cup of water and a bottle of Benadryl. She huffed a laugh. Who would have thought Rowan could be so fussy?

After gulping the medicine down, she took another go at standing up, keeping her injured hand off of the cushions. Her muscles ached all over, likely from sleeping in a stiff armchair for god knows how long, and sleeping in a wetsuit. The fabric had completely dried but still clung to her skin like a suction. She had fallen asleep in the worst possible conditions, and now she was paying the price. To add to her misery, Aelin could feel the dried saltwater in her hair, matted to no end from her slumber. She combed it out as best as she could with one viable hand, though she doubted it did much to help her appearance. 

She headed towards his kitchen, ready to rifle through his cabinets for something to eat, but a photograph on his counter drew her eye. She was walking over to it before she had consciously decided to do so. And the photo... it took her breath away. 

Rowan was there, but he looked like a completely different person. It wasn't his appearance- besides his hair falling several inches below his current cut, he looked pretty much the same physically. But his face... she had never seen such light in his eyes. He had looked happy when he was surfing, but it was a temporary happiness, the kind that came in a burst of adrenaline that distracts you from your pain momentarily, but never lasts. But in this photo, he looked joyful. His grin was so huge it crinkled the corners of his eyes, his arms wrapped tightly around a young woman, whose face was equally as bright. She was stunning, long brown hair falling in waves around her shoulders. Her features were soft, more rounded than Rowan's angular structure. His chin was resting on her shoulder, and her arms over were laid over his where they were banded around her stomach. Rowan looked several years younger, the remnants of adolescence visible on his face, and the girl as well. Neither of them could have been older than eighteen. 

Looking at the picture, Aelin felt like she was intruding on something. The moment had passed long ago, but she had the distinct sense that this wasn't something she was meant to see. Even as curiosity boiled up in her chest, she knew she wouldn't bring it up to Rowan. Whatever happiness he had then was obviously gone, and she doubted he wanted to discuss it, least of all with her.

She was already setting it back down when a deep voice rumbled from behind her. "Her name was Lyria."

She started, nearly dropping the frame in her surprise. She clutched the picture tightly as she whirled on Rowan, bracing herself for his rage. But when she looked, his expression was carefully neutral. Perhaps she would have believed his act, had she not seen the unfathomable sadness in his eyes. It was a face she had pulled on countless times, pushing the agony down, pushing it away so no one could see. But you can never expel sadness, not completely. You can twist your features, paste on a smile, and most people will buy it, but the pain always lingers somewhere, and the eyes are the hardest to control. Too many times she had looked in the mirror and seen that same emptiness in her own gaze, hidden away behind sweeping smiles and sarcastic comments. 

She couldn't think of anything to say, so she changed the subject. "I didn't know you were awake."

"I never went to sleep." Aelin glanced at the clock on the stove. It was well past midnight. With her asleep and taken care of, she couldn't imagine why he had stayed up so late. Reading her confused expression, Rowan sighed. "I don't... sleep well."

She just looked at him, grasping for something to say, something to ease the heavy tension that seemed to have settled between them, but came up blank. Striding over to her, he tugged the frame out of her hands. She let it go easily, still treading lightly, and he looked at it with a fondness tinged in heartache. She quickly averted her eyes. Whatever emotions he was feeling, she didn't think he would want her to witness it.

Maybe it was best to just address the situation and get it over with. Better he screams at her now than in public. "I wasn't trying to-"

He lifted his gaze to hers, the look in his eye effectively quieting her. Turning slowly, he walked over to the couch, perching on the edge as if he would take off running any minute, and stared down at the picture. She wasn't entirely sure if that look was an invitation to join him or if he was just having a moment, so she just stood there awkwardly, alternating between scrutinizing him and looking at anything besides his face. 

His eyes never strayed from the photo as he started talking. "I always knew I wanted to be in a band. I started taking drumming lessons in middle school, and I fell in love with it. I knew there was nothing else I wanted to do with my life. I practiced for hours every night, trying to perfect every technique, to master every rudiment. My parents soundproofed the garage so I wouldn't keep them up at all hours. It was my passion, and I didn't have any desire to focus on anything else. I kept my grades up enough to stay out of trouble, even joined the football team at my parent's insistence, but all of that was just white noise. I didn't care about any of it, only the music. And when the guys and I started playing together freshman year, my drive only increased."

Aelin tentatively approached him as he spoke, resting on the arm of the plush chair she had slept in. It was apparent that whatever story he was telling would be long, and she decided settling in was preferable to standing there uncomfortably. 

"Nothing else had ever caught my attention, had ever been important enough to pull me out of the haze of playing," he said. "But when she transferred to my school junior year, it was like I'd been pulled up from under the surface, like I was finally taking a real breath. I'd been with girls before, but she was the first to ever really draw me in. I had to know her. So I went and introduced myself, and I showed her around the school. She was shy, and nervous, always tucking her hair behind her ears. But we clicked instantly. We started dating, and it wasn't long before I was done for. We were practically inseparable; all of our friends always joked about us acting like we were already married, but they didn't understand. It felt real, even though we were only seventeen. I knew she was it for me.

"I loved her more than anyone in the world. But I was still focused on my future, on my career, especially with graduation looming. She would always ask me to spend more time with her, but I couldn't sacrifice my practicing, couldn't sacrifice my rehearsals." He huffed in disgust at himself. "I didn't think I was doing anything wrong. I was passionate about the band, and I couldn't slack off just because I had a girlfriend. I was so wrapped up in my own ambition that I didn't even notice something was wrong until it was too late."

Loathing filled his eyes, and Aelin knew it was directed at himself, at the decisions he had made. She sensed he wasn't finished, so she waited in silence.

"She had cancer. Melanoma. It was stage four by the time they found it. They tried treatments, but nothing helped. I didn't even know she was sick until she was on her deathbed. She said she had wanted the last few weeks of her life to feel normal, hadn't wanted me worrying and pitying her. She didn't want anyone to treat her like she was sick, so she didn't tell anyone. We were together for a year and a half before she died, six months before graduation. She never even turned eighteen.

"If I had been paying more attention, I would have known something was wrong. She was getting weaker, paler. Her hair was thinning. She ran out of breath walking through the lunch line. But I was so wrapped up in myself, in my need for success, that I didn't even see it." His voice went quiet. "I didn't even see it."

His face went carefully blank as he finished. "Her death... it broke me. I stopped living for months. I stopped going to class, stopped eating, stopped leaving my bed. The last thing I wanted to do was play. Playing is what had distracted me, playing is what cost me her. I couldn't stand to look at my drums, couldn't stand to look at _myself_. I was lost, wallowing in the guilt and the grief. Eventually, the guys pulled me out of it. It wasn't really them, actually. They had been around in the months after Lyria's death, had tried to be there for me, but I didn't want their help, didn't deserve it. But in July, they dragged me out to some coffee shop and sat me down, no matter how I protested. But they didn't sit down with me. Maeve did. She must have spoken to the boys before seeing me, because she seemed filled in on my situation. She told me that I had spent long enough grieving, that I was throwing my talent away. She was willing to offer us a record deal, and she said that the only thing getting in the band's way was me. She spoke to me with brutal honesty, but it was what I needed. We signed with her immediately, and I threw myself into rehearsals, into the life of a famous musician, until it drowned out the ache of losing her."

His fingers tightened on the frame. "I should have noticed. I should have paid her more attention when she asked for it, should have made her last days amazing." His voice was laced with a heavy sadness, and soft, as if he was speaking more for his benefit than hers.

She thought about trying to comfort him, about telling him that it wasn't his fault Lyria got sick, that he couldn't have known what she didn't tell him, that he had been a child when she died, and he had made mistakes like any other child would, but she knew it wouldn't help. He wouldn't want pity, and she had none to give. She sympathized with his pain, understood it more than he would guess, but any attempt at compassion on her end would only incense him. She knew if their roles were reversed, that's how she would feel. So she just looked at him while he looked at the photo. 

It made sense for him to be such an ass, she supposed. It didn't excuse his behavior- he was a grown adult, he definitely needed to learn to handle his emotions better- but she understood what had made him so bitter. Why _she_ had become the outlet for his aggression, that part was still unclear.

There was nothing she could say that would ease his pain, so she didn't talk about him. She talked about herself. "Sam always wanted to be a musician."

This caught his attention, his bleak eyes flicking up to hers. It had been years since she had spoken to anyone about what happened to Sam, and she wasn't entirely sure why she was telling this to Rowan, but something about his admission made her feel safe enough to share her own story. She swallowed tightly before continuing. "He knew from the moment he picked up a guitar that he would be a musician. I was never so sure about my path. For the longest time I wanted to go into medicine; I never even considered music until I was older. But Sam... he was always so sure of himself, so sure that he was making the right decisions."

She scoffed humorlessly. That self-assuredness had gotten him killed. 

"I met Sam in middle school. We _hated_ each other at first. We bickered constantly, even resorted to blows a few times, but eventually, that hostility developed into friendship. He and Lys were my closest friends, the people I shared everything with. He was beautiful, with curly brown hair and the eyes to match. And he was so happy all the time, it was infectious. It was impossible to be upset around him. He just had a way of making everything better. I didn't even realize I had feelings for him until he admitted his for me. But once he brought it up, it was so obvious that I didn't know how I hadn't realized it. I was completely in love with him. We started dating at the end of our freshman year.

"It started around that time." She could already feel the tears pooling in her eyes. "It didn't take long for me to realize something was going on, something bad. He started flinching at any sudden movements, wincing every now and then at simple touches. I asked him about it, but he always shrugged it off, spouting some bullshit about tripping down the stairs or running into a table. One day I snapped and pushed his shirt up before he could protest. Bruises, some recent, some weeks old, colored his skin. Once I had seen, he broke down and told me the truth. His bastard of a father was beating him. I was so mad at him for not telling me sooner, not letting me help him, but his dad had threatened him so he wouldn't tell, and I could see he was terrified. 

"I swore to him that he would never go back to that house, already dialing my parent's phone number, but he snatched the phone away, panicked. He didn't want me to tell anyone, worried it would just make things worse. I tried to reason with him, but he held firm. He kept saying that he could deal with it, that his dad only got angry when he drank, that he was strong enough to fight back. He said I needed to trust him, trust his judgment, trust that he could defend himself. And it's not that I doubted his abilities- Sam lifted weights all the time, I knew he could hold his own- but this situation was just too dangerous. I knew what I needed to do, but he said he would never forgive me if I told, that he would never speak to me again. And I hate that I even considered it, compromising his safety to keep his love, but in the end, I made the right choice. I told my parents. 

"They didn't let him go home, obviously. They said they would go to the police station first thing tomorrow, and he would stay with us until further notice. He tried to protest, but my parents were much better at shutting down his arguments than I was. He was furious with me, screamed at me as soon as we were alone, but I could tell that he was just scared. We were both crying by the end of the argument; he understood my decision, and I promised him we wouldn't let his father hurt him again. The police opened an investigation, but the case moved slowly. Sam lived with us for months, and our relationship was going strong. If it was possible, I was falling more for him every day. I couldn't wait for it all to be over, for his life to calm down so he could be properly happy. 

"But when the trial finally came, the judge ruled the evidence 'inconclusive' and didn't think it was enough to charge his father." Her tears were falling in earnest, both of pain and rage. "They sent him back. Back to that house with that abusive piece of shit. My family was fully ready to take him in, let him move in with us, but there was nothing we could do. The court had made its decision. But there was no way we would give up on him that easily. He was over at my house all day and stayed most nights. He went home only enough to satisfy CPS's requirements, and he always went super late and left super early. Beyond his obligations, he spent every moment out of that house. 

"The beginning of junior year, he told us things were getting better. He said his father had been talking to him, and while he had been angry at Sam at first for reporting him, he had recognized his mistakes. He told Sam that he 'didn't want to lose him,' and that he was going to get his temper under control. I still don't know if Sam made that up so we would let him leave, so he could prove something to himself, or if his father had tricked him into coming home. But he wanted to start going back more. My parents and I were hesitant to let him leave, but he insisted. When I fought with him about it in private, he only got angrier. He felt like I was insulting him by doubting if he should go back, thought I was doubting his strength and ability to defend himself. I told him that's not what I thought at all, but he would only be appeased if I let him go. I knew he would leave whether I tried to stop him or not, so I had to trust him. I made him promise to be careful, promise to leave at the first sign of trouble. And then he was gone. 

"Several days passed, and he seemed fine. I saw him at school, and he would come over after, but he always went home at night. He got annoyed with my parent's and I's constant pestering, swearing that he was okay. But then he didn't come to school on Friday. Alarm bells were already ringing in my head, and my parents called me right as I started to dial their number. Sam's father had beaten him to death the night before." She choked on the words, sobs she was unable to suppress surfacing. 

Placing her head in her hands, Aelin tried to finish the story. "The court finally sent his father to prison." She scoffed sadly. "Too little, too late. The damage was already done. After I got the news, I shut down. I had lost the man I loved more than anything in the world, and it had been my fault he died. I knew what kind of person his father was. I should have known better than to believe he had changed, should have kept Sam home with me no matter what he said. I should have tied him down if that's what it took. I should have kept him safe. And I didn't. So I lost my will to live. If not for Lysandra, I might have just let myself die. But she brought me food when I couldn't get out of bed and sat until I ate everything. She helped me bathe when I didn't have the energy, washed my sheets when I had lain in them for too long, and beyond that, she stroked my hair while I cried. She never said anything, she just held me. And eventually, she started making me move to different areas in the house: the couch, the hammock, anywhere but my bed. She pushed me to start singing with her again. Little steps, until I could get back to some semblance of normalcy. When senior year started, I was functional again; not healed, but functional. And Lysandra pushed me to start therapy, which I did, and it helped, to a degree. But there's a part of me... a part I'm not sure will ever heal. And I don't know how to explain that to them. They all want so badly for me to be okay, and I don't want to let them down. And I am much better than I used to be, but the grief... it never goes away, not fully. I don't feel like I will ever be okay again."

She took a deep, steadying breath. "Anyways, that's why I decided to pursue music. Lysandra and I had been messing around with songs before Sam died, and we were good, but it was just for fun. Once Lys managed to ease me back into playing, it became an outlet for me. Focusing on honing my skills distracted me from the sting of loss and the weight of guilt, even if just for a moment. But the reason I decided to make a career out of it... it's what Sam always wanted. To be a musician. But he never got the chance to live his dream, so I decided to live it for him. And the music... well, it felt like getting a piece of him back. So I do it to honor him, to keep him alive."

Sniffing, she wiped her cheeks, her eyes swollen from all the crying. After a moment of silence, she looked up, only to see Rowan's pensive gaze on her. "That's why I got my tattoo, too." At her confused look, he clarified. "To honor Lyria. The tattoo tells her story, the story of how I failed her, in the old language of my ancestors."

She didn't know why, but for some reason that lifted her spirits, just a little. For all their bickering, they were more alike than either of them would admit. Maybe that's why they rubbed each other the wrong way: they were exactly the same, and looking at each other was like looking at the worst parts of themselves.

He didn't offer any condolences, didn't try to convince her it wasn't her fault. He just held her gaze. They had both been open tonight, open in ways that didn't really make sense, given their history, and yet made perfect sense, given their likeness. 

"I don't know how to keep going," she said, the earnestness in his gaze breaking down her defenses, bringing that unspoken truth to the surface against her will. 

"Me either," he said. "But maybe... maybe we can figure it out together."

She saw the offer for what it was: companionship. Someone to work through the grief with, someone who understood.

A small smile pulled on her lips. She nodded, and he gave a brief smile of his own. 

"You're still a prick, though," she said, only half-joking as she tried to lighten the mood 

He huffed a laugh, tilting his head briefly in agreement. "Yeah."

As exhausted as she was from crying, she stayed up all night talking with Rowan, which, admittedly, was only a few hours since it was already so late. She didn't leave his apartment until the sun had fully risen, and he wouldn't let her go without taking his bottle of Benadryl and some bandages in case her arm started bothering her. Fussy. 

Grabbing the materials, she thanked him. It wasn't just for the medicine, and from his soft smile, she knew he understood what she meant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yayyyyy sad backstories!! I hope you guys are liking the fic!!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took so long, I've been getting busy working on college applications!! I hope you guys like it!!

Even with sunlight streaming through her windows, Aelin slept easier that night than she had in weeks. She hadn't been expecting it to, but her conversation with Rowan had lifted a weight from her chest, a weight she hadn't even known she was still carrying. She had thought that over time she had been able to ease some of the pain of Sam's death, to sand down the raw edges of the hole he tore through her, but maybe she was just kidding herself. Maybe she lied to her friends so well that she started to believe herself, managed to convince herself the struggle was lessening when she was really just acclimating to the burden. Perhaps that's all time can do: numb you to the pain.

But getting it all out had just felt so... freeing. Talking to Lysandra and Aedion was helpful, but they cared about her too much for her to truly be honest. It felt like she was letting them down every time she slipped back into the sadness, every time the pain of his loss stung fresh. They would never really think like that, of course, but that didn't stop Aelin from feeling like she was disappointing them. They would look at her helplessly, not knowing how to pull her out of the pit she had been sitting in for years, not knowing what more they could do. It didn't matter that there was nothing they could do but be there, they would always want to do more, want to piece her back together in whatever way they could, even if it meant holding the shards of her soul in place with their bare hands. But she hated to bother them, hated to worry them, hated to feel that _weak_. So she put on a brave face and shoved the pain into the smallest corner she could find. It usually fooled them, and it sometimes fooled herself, but it was always lurking, ready to bubble up at the most inopportune moment. But talking with Rowan hadn't felt like that. There had been no pressure to seem okay, no expectations of her healing to shatter. He didn't look at her with pity or concern, just bleak understanding, a hand to shake in the darkness. Not to pull her out, but to acknowledge, to meet her where she was. There was no need to feign being all right, so she didn't. And airing that part of her out after all these years... it had been necessary. She hadn't even realized how much those feelings had started to fester under the harsh container she kept them in, but now that they were out, now that there was at least one person in the world who she didn't have to pretend for, she felt lighter than she had in years. 

Her hand throbbed as she rose, the late morning light finally drawing her out of bed. The few hours she slept weren't nearly enough, but she had made a promise to herself years ago to never sleep past noon, and she was cutting it dangerously close. Giving herself a time-limit on lounging in bed helped her get out of her depression after Sam, and she kept the habit up anyways, trying to stay on the safe side. She didn't bother changing out of her pajamas before sidling into her kitchen to fix breakfast. Eggs were always a safe option- minimal opportunity for error- so she let a couple scramble while she made her coffee. Once the drink was finished she scanned her messages, periodically stirring the eggs. There were several notifications from Lys, a long string of texts that Aelin wasn't cognizant enough to read, some dm's from the girls, another string of messages from Fenrys, the most recent one being a series of winky emojis, and a ton messages in Bitch Queen's group chat. She almost opened the girl's messages, but the smell of charred breakfast was blowing towards her, and she had to let the task drop while she dealt with the issue at hand. The eggs were a little burned, but not inedible, so she scraped them onto a plate and dug in, settling at her table. 

Tucking her legs underneath her, Aelin scraped the food into her mouth, ready to dive into the information her friends had sent her in the hours she'd been asleep, but another message caught her eye: Maeve.

The message was from early that morning, sent at 8:06 am. _We are having a meeting today at 1:00. Don't be late._

Aelin almost spit out her food, shoveling the rest of her breakfast down as she cleared her plate, hurrying into her bathroom. She had less than an hour to get ready and be at the studio, and Maeve wasn't someone you showed up for looking like you just rolled out of bed, even if she had. Thank god she kept her promise; if she skipped out on a meeting with her boss, her career could be forfeit. 

Hopping into the shower, her thoughts spun. The girls had had meetings with Maeve before, but they were always planned, always during the workweek. She didn't know why Maeve would call a meeting last minute, unless they'd done something wrong. She couldn't think of anything they had done recently, but she supposed she would figure out soon enough. Shit. 

She toweled off hurriedly, pulling her hair out of its knot on the top of her head. She didn't have time to wash her hair, so dry shampoo would have to suffice. Splitting her limited time, Aelin curled the ends of her hair and brushed some makeup on her face. She focusing on brightening her face since she didn't have enough time to do a proper look. It was a trick she had perfected in college, making herself look awake when she slept as late as she could manage while still making it to class on time. The years of experience didn't fail her, and when she was satisfied with her appearance, she slipped into black skinny jeans and her navy turtleneck, pulling a gold necklace over the fabric. She barely remembered deodorant before she was running down to her car. 

Traffic would have been an issue, had Aelin not grown up in California. Her driver's ed was weaving through five-lane highways and zipping through yellow lights she probably should have stopped at. A trip that should have been 15 minutes was only 9, and she pulled into the studio's parking lot with 5 minutes to spare. Loosing a breath, Aelin grabbed her phone and went inside. She made herself walk slowly; no need to alert everyone to how close she was to missing this meeting if she didn't have to. 

Meetings with the whole band usually met in the conference room, so that's where she headed. She opted for the stairs, needing to expel some of the nervous energy eating through her stomach lining. Three flights felt like nothing when her thoughts were louder than the burn in her legs. Whatever they had done, she only hoped that she could talk Maeve out of ending their contract.

The conference rooms were on the opposite side of the building from the staircase, the long hallway bisected by another short corridor. When she exited the stairwell, Aelin pushed her shoulders back and strode across the hallway, nearly positive the other girls were already in there. She was fine being the last one to show up as long as she was there on time, and she still had two minutes.

Her thoughts almost drowned out the hushed whispering down the side hall, but as she approached the voices became more defined, snagging her attention. She would have walked right past them, paying their conversation no mind, had she not recognized the deep baritone. That same voice had spoken softly to her for hours last night. 

Aelin knew she shouldn't eavesdrop, but the tone of Rowan's voice made her pause. His voice was defensive, which wasn't unusual for him, but it was the reverent, almost submissive way he spoke that surprised her. Every time she had heard him, he always had an edge to his voice, a brutal strength that intimidated most people right off the bat. To hear him talk that way... it was strange.

Pressing her body against the corner, Aelin strained to hear the conversation. She could make out Rowan's quiet murmurs, but the voice opposite him remained a mystery. It was feminine, but beyond that, she couldn't make out any distinct features, the woman's responses too quiet to pick up.

Rowan's voice was clear enough for her to catch pieces of his comments, though his partner kept interrupting him. "I was only trying to... No, I haven't forgotten... Yes, I understand... I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

Whoever he was speaking to seemed to have something on him, but the meat of the conversation kept evading her ears, so Aelin couldn't figure out what. She imagined that it wasn't something meant to be overheard, given their attempt at quietness, but curiosity was getting the best of her. She was going to be late for her meeting if this little scene didn't wrap up soon.

She was so desperate to discern the conversation's meaning that she didn't process the clicking of heels on the sleek tile, quickly approaching from the same direction of Rowan's hushed meeting, until it was too late. She was still flat against the wall when Maeve strode in front of her, Rowan trailing in her wake. Her ruby lips broke into a smirk, seemingly unperturbed at Aelin's eavesdropping, while Rowan's face went ashen. Aelin gulped. 

"Miss Galathynius. Perfect timing, Mr. Whitethorn and I were just heading to the conference room. You can walk with us."

Aelin nodded, falling into line next to Rowan. Maeve must be confident that Aelin hadn't heard anything, given the self-satisfied twist of her mouth. Either that or she didn't care if Aelin knew, but if that were the case, what was the point in whispering at all? They must have been speaking about something important, something that Rowan didn't want anyone knowing about. 

Rowan was staring at the side of Aelin's head, his gaze not quite a glare, but not exactly inviting either. He was gauging her, trying to suss out how much she heard, how much she knew. She kept her face impassive, though she knew he could probably see the gears turning in her head. Whatever she had witnessed was definitely a secret. If she were a better person she might drop it, but her interest had been piqued, and if she and Rowan were on this new friendship kick, maybe he would be honest with her. 

Or maybe it would push him too far and he would snap. She didn't particularly feel like moving backwards in their relationship. It was probably best if she didn't bring it up to him, just figured it out on her own. 

Right before they walked into the conference room, their friends already arranged around the table, Rowan grabbed her elbow, swinging her out of the doorway. Her eyes widened as she looked at him, and he scanned with assessing eyes. He had gained some composure, his face set in cool impassivity, but his hand on her arm was tight. "How much of that did you hear." With the gruffness of his voice, it didn't come out like a question. 

"Hardly any. Certainly nothing that made sense."

He loosed a breath, letting his eyes fall shut. "Okay." 

He started towards the door again, and it was Aelin's turn to pull him back, her hand fisting in his jacket. He brought it up, not her, and now she wanted answers. "Wait, Rowan, what's going on?"

He glanced around the hallway before snapping back towards her. "Don't worry about it, Aelin," he whispered harshly. Without another word, he turned on his heel and strode into the conference room. After a moment of surprised silence, she followed. 

The girls were on one side of the table, staring at her with questioning eyes. She imagined they were wondering why she hadn't responded to any of their texts, why she was on the verge of being late to a meeting with their very terrifying boss, why she and Rowan came in with said boss, but all she could do was flash them a look that said _later_ and hope that her eyes conveyed the message. They all nodded minutely, settling back into the chairs with a sense of forced nonchalance, except Manon, who looked like she actually didn't care. It almost made Aelin snort, but she wasn't going to push her luck with Maeve.

The guys were seated opposite them, looking cool and unfazed. If they were nervous about this meeting, they certainly didn't show it: their faces were all masks of cool indifference. There was obvious respect and deference in their expressions, but all behind a careful blankness. Even Fenrys, his face always smiley and joyful, had adopted the calm, frosty look. It was mildly disturbing. 

Sliding in next to Lysandra, who quickly intertwined their fingers under the table and squeezed anxiously, Aelin tried to catch Rowan's eye, but he was staring resolutely at anything besides her. She couldn't let it drop now; she wasn't just curious, she was concerned. Everything about the day's events- the snippets she'd heard of his conversation with Maeve, the unease Rowan had when he asked what she had heard, the detachment on all the guy's faces- were ringing warning bells in her head. Something was going on, something wrong, but she didn't have enough information to know what. And from the looks of it, she doubted anyone would be of much help figuring it out.

Maeve stood at the head of the table, surveying them like a queen over her subjects. Aelin felt her eyes flicking over to Rowan, but his mask was impenetrable. When she turned back, her bosses' obsidian eyes were already on her. Maeve's gaze glittered with danger, as if she wanted Aelin to do something stupid just so she could destroy her career. She stared back, unwilling to cower under the thinly veiled threat, but Maeve only smirked, looking at her like she was an insect who had fallen right into her carefully laid web. 

Breaking their stare, Maeve finally addressed the group. "I'm glad everyone could make it. We have some matters to discuss."

Aelin and the girls all exchanged glances, seeing if anyone had an inkling what this could be about. No one did. 

"Miss Galathynius and Mr. Whitethorn have made quite a... splash in the past few weeks. I'm sure you all know that since the two of you started spending time together, the fans have become very invested in your friendship. This little arrangement has brought a lot of positive attention to the bands: new people have begun listening to your music after seeing all the media coverage, and the fans of your respective bands have started crossing over. So, since we had to go to such extreme's to save your reputations, we might as well capitalize on our efforts. This is an opportunity for a rise in popularity for both parties, and we should strike while the iron is hot. I want your groups to start working together. Each band could have the other feature on a track in the future, and we can have the other perform a song or two when your locations cross while on tour. As long as we're getting positive press from this, we should milk it for all it's worth. From what I'm told, you guys are all truly friends, for the most part, so this shouldn't be an issue." Maeve looked at each of them in turn, making sure her message was properly absorbed. "You're dismissed." 

They all filed out silently, the guys going one way and the girls another after agreeing to plan their crossover later. Once they were a safe distance away from the conference room, they let out a collective sigh of relief. 

"My god, I thought we were done for!" Lys exclaimed. 

"Me too," Elide agreed, pressing her palm to her chest. "I don't know why she called a last-minute meeting for such a trivial issue, but I'm glad it was that and not us getting fired."

"I told you guys, you stress too much." Manon flipped her glossy silver hair over her shoulder, unbothered. 

"Well, emergency meetings with your boss are an understandable source of nervousness, especially when that boss is Maeve." Lysandra wheeled on Aelin again, her eyes accusing. "And having an MIA bandmate doesn't exactly help soothe the anxiety. What the hell happened this morning, Aelin?"

Aelin threw her hands up. "Hey, I thought we had the day off, so I was sleeping in." 

"Until 1 pm?"

"Yes, Lys, we can't all be fully functional and mentally stable human beings. Some of us need to lie around in our suffering for a while."

Lysandra narrowed her eyes at her. "Oh, I'm sure it was all wallowing in misery, not sleeping the morning away because you stayed up far too late with a certain someone?" Lysandra wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

"What are you talking about?"

"Come on, A, didn't you see any of our messages? We all know what you were doing last night."

"Or who," Elide added meekly, already blushing profusely at her mildly dirty comment. It would have been comical if Aelin wasn't the butt of the joke. 

She fished her phone out of her pocket, deciding her messages would probably offer a more straightforward answer than this conversation would. She thought about going to the group chat, but there were nearly fifty texts in there, and she guessed most of them had to do with the meeting, so she opted for her and Lys's private messages. After a few texts asking where she was, she found what she was looking for. She had to scroll through several strings of dirty emojis and obscene comments before she found the source: an article. The title alone gave her the answer she needed, but the photo attached was just icing on the cake. 

"Oh my god," Aelin groaned, slapping a hand to her face. She really did not want to deal with this. 

"I can't believe you've been holding out on us!" Lys shouted. "I thought you hated him, though?" 

"Hate sex is fun. More power to you," Manon added. 

Aelin let her head fall against the wall, closing her eyes as if it would shield her from this conversation and the millions of others like it circulating the Internet. "No, guys, it's not true." 

Because blinking on her screen was a photo of her leaving Rowan's house this morning, her hair mussed from sleeping in his armchair, under the title **Aelin Galathynius Spotted Leaving Rowan Whitethorn's Home Early This Morning. Is This Proof of Their Secret Relationship?**. 

She was so fucked. Even if she tried to set the record straight, people would never believe her. Dating rumors had been flying for weeks, and fans would likely take this as concrete evidence, no matter what she said. 

Lys huffed. "Oh, please. We have photographic evidence, so there's no point in lying about it now."

"No, I'm serious. I mean, I was there, but we weren't hooking up." At their skeptical look, she dragged them into one of the lounges, settling in. No doubt they would take lots of convincing. 

"One second." Aelin scoured through the article for a moment, trying to see just how much they already knew. Whoever the author was had managed to spin a very convincing story. There were photos of them at the beach, both on the sand and in the water. In some of them he was touching her, pushing her body into the correct positions, and then they were grinning at each other as they caught the waves. After that it jumped to her closing his front door and getting into an Uber. The story was that their time at the beach was a date, and then they had moved to his place for the more... private aspect of the evening. She'll admit, the pictures did look a little incriminating, but they were all taken out of context. Not that anyone would believe that. Shit.

The girls were all looking at her expectantly, so she jumped right in. "Okay, so you all know that Rowan and I went surfing yesterday. I don't know why- we were set to meet for dinner, but he showed up early and drove us to the beach. It achieved the same goal and was significantly more fun, so I didn't question it. Anyway, that's where those photos are from. He was teaching me how to surf, showing me the right stances."

They all shared glances, obviously not believing her. "While we were there, I got stung by a jellyfish. See, look." Showing them the burnt flesh on her hand seemed to shake up their confidence in their assumptions, at least a little. "I had no idea how to treat a jellyfish sting, so Rowan took me to his place and helped me treat it. After he cleaned it I had to soak it in hot water, so I was warm and exhausted from surfing for hours and I fell asleep. Nothing happened."

Elide and Lysandra looked speculative, trying to discern if she was lying to them or not, but Manon only looked vaguely disappointed. "Lame."

"You and Rowan really aren't...?" Lys asked carefully.

Aelin looked her firmly in the eye, leaving no room for doubt. "No."

Her friend let out a pent up breath. "I'm glad, A. I mean, what you do with your body is your business, and you deserve to have some fun if you want it, but I would just hope you'd pick someone who respects you more than Rowan Whitethorn. The dude's a real prick."

She couldn't defend Rowan, but she didn't entirely agree with Lys's assessment either. His struggles didn't excuse his actions, but she understood why he had lashed out the way he had. He certainly had done some asshole-ish things, but she wouldn't label him an asshole. But she couldn't explain that without getting into the finer details of she and Rowan's conversation, and that wasn't an option, so she only said, "I've got it under control."

"What are you going to do about this?" Elide asked. 

"Well, the PR teams told us to leave the dating rumors alone, to dodge any questions about them, so I guess we'll just ignore it unless they tell us otherwise." 

They were due in the rehearsal room, and they slipped into casual conversation as they walked. The girls wanted all the details of her day with Rowan yesterday and she offered most of it up, minus their heart-to-heart. When the talk shifted onto a safer subject, Aelin pulled out her phone and went through the rest of her messages. The group chat was as expected: it started with lots of excited talk of her and Rowan's supposed sex life, and then shifted into panic about the meeting, ending with lots of crazed demands of her whereabouts and why she wasn't responding. Her messages with Fen were similar to hers with Lysandra, chock-full of explicit comments about the articles. Plural. Because he had sent her about ten different sites who were all covering the story, each with millions of hits already. Her life was getting far too messy.

Right before she went in for rehearsals, she sent Rowan a text. **Have you seen it?**

**Yes.** Ever the conversationalist. 

**Do you think this will be a problem?**

**I'll take care of it. Don't worry.**

**I'm not worried.**

**Good. I've got to go into rehearsal, but we can talk more after. I'll find you before I leave.**

She smiled to herself. **Will you tell me what's going on with Maeve?**

**No. Nice try though.**

She huffed a laugh, not expecting anything else. Whatever was going on, Aelin doubted she would get any real answers from Rowan. She would have to deal with _that_ issue on her own. But at least they would deal with the dating rumors together. 

The whole situation was so absurd it was almost funny, though she doubted Rowan would see it that way. Still, she didn't feel as upset by this as she would have a few days ago. She wasn't sure what that meant, but it felt good. So she let it, and went into rehearsal.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg why do I change the format of this fic in every chapter lmaoooo

When Rowan said he would "take care of it," Aelin had assumed that meant working out a plan with their PR teams so they could avoid this kind of misconception in the future, maybe even getting the articles taken down, if he was feeling dramatic. Whatever the case, she had thought he would take a far less public approach. Their PR team's answer to the speculation was always to casually brush the situation off, not to engage with the rumors so they can die down. So seeing her reputed lover practically renounce her on camera was a bit of a shock. 

And what's worse, he didn't even have the decency to warn her. They had hung out almost every night that week, and he never brought it up. He hadn't even warned their PR teams, as far as she knew. He had taken the situation into his own hands and done what he thought was best, without even consulting her. They were probably in for a lecture like no other when they got back to the studio on Monday, thanks to his impulsiveness.

She probably wouldn't have even seen the video had Aedion not shown her. The constant influx of stories had desensitized her, so now the media coverage seemed to fade into the background. It had been fun, in the beginning, to see all the wild things people would say, but after a while it just became overwhelming. And with all of her notifications off, it was far too easy to ignore the swirling rumors. But Aedion loved to stay up to date on the latest gossip, so he had known almost as soon as the video started circulating. 

He had making dinner for her, pouring wine into the saucepan for some pasta recipe he'd found online. The kitchen would combust if she tried to help, so she was sprawled on his bar top, fiddling with a pen while he told her about this mystery man he was fairly certain Yrene was seeing. He didn't know what he looked like, and Yrene was dodging all of his questions, but he had gathered evidence: hushed conversations over the phone, sticky notes reminding her of reservations, smiling down at her phone. Aelin reminded him that all of those could have perfectly normal, platonic explanations, but he was convinced. If it was true, Aelin was happy for her. Yrene was amazing, and she deserved to have someone who made her happy.

The pasta was simmering, and in a break from stirring her cousin had checked his phone and seen it. "A, have you seen this?"

"What is it?"

He flashed his phone to her, showing the lines of black text. **Rowan Whitethorn Rebuffs Dating Rumors, Hints That He Is On The Lookout For A Lover**.

Snatching the phone from him, Aelin tucked her legs underneath her and pressed play, Aedion sliding in next to her so he could see. 

"Mr. Whitethorn!" the interviewer flagged him down. "Mr. Whitethorn, can you tell us about your rumored relationship with Aelin Galathynius?"

"There's nothing to tell. She's a friend, that's all." 

"But she was seen sneaking out of your house in the early morning five days ago."

Rowan heaved a sigh, mild amusement tinging his face. "Aelin was over at my house because she had been stung by a jellyfish when we were at the beach earlier that day. If you zoom in on the photos, I'm sure you'll be able to see the redness all over her hand. Hell, it might even still be there. She didn't have any vinegar at her house, so she came to mine so we could treat the sting. Then she accidentally fell asleep, so she left in the morning when she woke. Nothing happened."

"But, surely there must be something going on if she felt safe enough at your house to fall asleep?" the reporter asked, obviously grasping at threads. 

Rowan snorted. "Well, I certainly hope she feels safe with me. We are friends- I'd be concerned if she didn't. And I doubt her falling asleep had anything to do with me and more to do with a day of rehearsals and hours of physical exercise catching up to her."

"So there's truly nothing going on?"

"Not even close." He looks on the verge of laughter, as if the idea of being with her was so absurd it was almost humorous.

"Well, then, Mr. Whitethorn, is there any other lady in your life that your fans should know about?"

The phrasing of the question irked Aelin. The idea that fans were _owed_ information about a celebrity's private life irritated her to no end. "Not right now. I haven't met anyone yet who's caught my eye." Rowan flashed the man a playboy grin. 

"Does that mean there could be someone in the near future?"

"You never know." With that, he sauntered off, throwing an exaggerated wink at the camera. Then the video shut off. 

They were both silent for a moment, processing what they had just seen. Ultimately, Aedion spoke first. "Did your PR teams sanction this?"

"Doubtful. They always said to ignore everything, not to engage, and I haven't been told of any change in procedure. And it was far too sloppy; Yrene would have made sure any statement would have been much more diplomatic than that."

"Jesus. Why the hell would he do that?"

That was exactly what Aelin was wondering. Rowan had never seemed bothered by the rumors before. She hadn't even seen him address one in private, so why all of the sudden did he feel the need to set the record straight in public? It made little sense, given how easily they used to roll off his back. 

And unsurprisingly, there was anger burning through her veins. Not just because he spoke about an issue that will directly affect her and her career without running it by her, but also because of the way he addressed it. She wasn't upset that he had cleared the situation up- they weren't dating, so there was nothing wrong with him saying so- but he had acted like being with her was unthinkable. He'd spoken as if the idea of dating her was laughable, and she didn't appreciate the slight. And especially since he made it apparent that he was open to a relationship, she was sure the Internet would speculate for weeks what was so wrong with her that would make Rowan so thoroughly uninterested. 

Not to mention that his sudden flirtatiousness was wildly out of character. In all of the times they had been out together, she had never once seen him look at any of the beautiful women they passed. He had handled everyone who flirted with him with detached politeness, and had never made any advances of his own, so why he had gone to such great lengths to insinuate that he was looking for someone, she didn't know. Aelin had seen almost every side of Rowan Whitethorn, but it felt like she had been watching a completely different person. 

Looking up at her cousin, she saw him looking at her expectantly, and then remembered he had asked her a question. Unfortunately, she had no answers, so she simply shrugged.

"He could have handled it with a little more delicacy," he muttered. 

She scoffed. "Understatement of the century."

Lys and Fenrys were spamming her inbox, sending all kinds of comments about this latest development in the dumpster fire that was her social life, but she was already feeling overwhelmed. She responded to her friends as kindly as she was able, and told them she was spending the evening with her cousin, so she wouldn't respond much, before shutting her phone off. Aedion went back to his mindless chatter, recounting all of the drama from the staff at the studio, and Aelin was eager to lose herself in other people's lives and forget about her own. 

Dinner and the dishes passed far too quickly. Aelin had missed this time with her cousin. Ever since the band had taken off, it had been harder and harder to spend time with him; if she wasn't busy, he was. She spent most of the meal filling him in on the lives of all the girls and the guys of The Cadre, since he had caught her up on his life during the cooking. It was nice to talk about all that had been going on with someone who hadn't lived it. She told him about Elide and Lorcan's quickly escalating relationship and Elide telling him about her uncle, about Manon's lack of fear concerning Maeve, and that Fenrys's last name was Moonbeam, which Aedion promptly made fun of for at least five minutes. 

Besides Lysandra, Aedion had always been her favorite person to gossip with. He was a rapt listener, always seeming to have a genuine interest in their topics, and his commentary was second only to her own in hilarity. The best was when she, Aedion, and Lysandra gossiped together. Those nights were unmatched. 

They had chosen some shitty rom-com to watch tonight. They never agreed on movies they actually enjoyed- Aedion liked war movies, and Aelin liked drama's- so they always ended up watching the cheesiest movie they could find and making fun of it the whole time. It was one of their most treasured traditions, dating back to their high school years. 

Aelin was pulling the popcorn out of the microwave and dumping it in a bowl while Aedion curled into the couch and started the opening credits. He stopped her as she started making her way towards him. "Hey, Ace, can you grab my phone for me? I think I left it by the sink."

She stretched over the counter to grasp it, and as she brought it towards her body, the screen automatically lit up. The message waiting on his screen almost made her drop the bowl. She gasped dramatically and whirled towards her cousin. 

He only looked at her, his face frozen in confusion. "What?"

"You're going on a date with Lysandra tomorrow?" 

Her cousin, usually so suave and collected, visibly gulped, his face flaming red. "Maybe."

Aelin ran over to the couch, settling in to grill her cousin. "Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't Lys tell me?"

"Look, it's not that big of a deal. We're just going to get lunch."

"It's not that big of a deal," she said flatly, staring him down until he broke. 

"Shut up," he mumbled, shifting so his hair covered his face. 

"I knew it! I mean, everyone knew it, but I've known it for the longest. You were half in love with her as soon as I brought her home for the first time."

"I was not."

"Oh, you definitely were. Don't worry, she was too." Aelin was grinning. "This is a good thing, Aedion. There's no one else I would pick for her. Especially after everything with her parents, you're the only one I'd trust to treat her right."

He glanced up at her from beneath his lashes, a small smile twisting his lips. "Thank you, A."

"That said, I will beat your ass if you hurt her."

"Shouldn't you be saying that to her? I am your family, you know."

"Ah, yes, but I love her more than you," she teased.

He punched her arm playfully. "Can we just get back to the movie?"

"Fine, fine," she acquiesced, holding her hands up in surrender, but she couldn't contain her smile. 

\---------------------------------------------

Their PR teams had officially released them from their obligatory meetings. They figured they could ride this hook-up rumor until they left for their tours, and they didn't really need any more public outings to fan that particular flame, so Aelin and Rowan had to be far more covert about their time together. The contrast was almost humorous: where they had been relying on their limited outings to get as much media attention as possible, they were now trying to keep their frequent meetings as far out of the public eye as they could get. As much as she preferred their current dynamic to their previous one, the sneaking around was quite a pain. One can only hide in a trunk for so long before it starts to feel demeaning. 

Aelin was relieved of her plight all weekend, since Rowan was occupied, but unfortunately, that meant she hadn't gotten to discuss this whole situation with him, but she was determined to confront him about it at the studio today. She drove up with Lysandra, who recounted everything about her and Aedion's date, except what happened once they went back to his place, at Aelin's request. Normally, she and Lys had no issue discussing the details of their sex lives, but Aelin really didn't want to hear about her cousin's. 

Manon and Elide were already there by the time they arrived, so they jumped right into rehearsals. Their set was really starting to come together, the songs sounding far more synchronized and professional than they ever had. They were also starting sectionals this week, and Aelin was grateful for the one-on-one time with her vocal coach. The tour was rapidly approaching, and Aelin was eager to perfect her performance.

Her private rehearsal was the first that day, but everyone was supposed to stay at the studio so they could reconvene before the day ended. After her rehearsal, Aelin made her way out, switching places with Elide. The other girls were lounging in the recording room, and Aelin was on her way to join them when a flash of silver hair caught her eye. It seemed The Cadre was doing sectionals today, too.

Jogging down the hallway, Aelin pushed into the lounge Rowan had gone into. Thankfully, he was alone, pushing quarters into a vending machine. He turned when he heard the door close behind her. "Hey, Aelin. What are you doing?"

"I just got out of my sectional rehearsal. I saw you come in here, and I wanted to see you."

"Oh." He almost seemed to wince. Maybe he was anticipating her fury. He turned back to the vending machine, punching the numbers in. "Well, it has been a couple of days since we've seen each other. How was your weekend?"

She raised her eyebrow at his back. He couldn't be serious. "Less eventful than yours."

At that, he swiveled around, his brow pinched in bewilderment. "What do you mean?"

Either he was playing stupid, or he genuinely didn't think she would be upset about what he said. But if that was the case, why would he have winced? Definitely playing stupid. "Well, for starters, I didn't slander you on camera, where it would be seen by millions."

If anything, he looked more confused. "If you're referring to that reporter who stopped me, I'd hardly call that slander. I didn't say anything bad about you, I only set the record straight about our relationship status."

"Number one, those rumors are about _both of us_. If you want to address them publicly, you should talk to me about it first. It's my reputations you're jeopardizing, too. Number two, you may not have meant to say anything bad about me, but you insinuated plenty. You acted as if the idea of being with me was so preposterous it was comical, and that makes it look like there's something wrong with me, especially when juxtaposed with you very clearly alluding to looking for a relationship."

He simply looked at her for a moment, before saying, "You have quite a big vocabulary when you're angry. Did you major in English?"

Condescending bastard. "Did you hear anything I just said?"

He sighed. "Yes, Aelin, I did, but I think you are blowing this out of proportion. I don't think anyone will see it that way."

"And if I'm not?"

"I don't know what kind of sway over your reputation you think I have, but the public likes you far more than they like me. If anyone looks bad in this, it's me, because everyone knows how cool you are and I've always been a stuck-up asshole."

Strangely, that marginally soothed her. It was true, all the negative press she'd gotten from their initial argument had been all but erased, and most reviews of her character were positive. She always did her best to engage with fans, to be polite with interviewers, and Rowan had always been a little rougher around the edges. He wasn't outrightly rude, at least not with the fans, but he could be a little gruff, even snappy. It usually worked for him- he had girls fawning over his "bad boy" image left in right- but some people put it in a more negative light. She assumed his PR team hadn't stepped in since it was working to his benefit, making him the most beloved band member by a long shot. 

It was possible what he said was true, but it didn't dissolve her anger completely. "Either way, the PR teams said not to engage with the speculation. Why did you say anything at all?"

He stared straight into her eyes as he spoke. "The opportunity presented itself, and I thought it would be good to clear things up. And it worked. Not everyone's been dissuaded, but it's definitely planted some doubt."

"What does it matter what people think? You never seemed to care before."

"I don't." He shrugged. "But I figured there was no reason not to set things straight."

"Ah, guess you've got to clear the way if you want to get a girl anytime soon. Speaking of which, where did that sudden bout of romance come from?

"Nowhere. I didn't say I was looking for anyone."

"Just strongly hinted at it."

"You can interpret things however you would like, Aelin. I can't stop you."

Why did he have to be so patronizing about everything? "Just admit it: you only addressed this because you're looking for someone to hook up with."

"So what if I did?" He asked, stepping forward, into her space. She refused to back down, lifting her chin and meeting his glittering green eyes, even as her heart kicked into gear at his closeness. "Does that bother you? That I'm looking for someone?"

She could feel his breath fanning across her face, could smell the pine and snow from his cologne. He was trying to get into her head, and she wouldn't let him. "Not at all."

"Good," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes bore into hers with such intensity, she couldn't bring herself to look away. And damn her heart for the beat it skipped at his heavy gaze, for the heat it sent to every part of her body. The urge to reach out and touch him, to skim her fingers along his face, to trace the lines of his tattoo all the way down his body hit her with startling intensity, but she mustered up enough self-restraint to only let out a shaky breath. 

Rowan smirked down at her, probably aware of her body's reaction, even though she'd done her best to contain it. He licked his lips slowly, scanning the planes of her face before quickly turning away, grabbing his snack out of the vending machine and striding towards the door. He paused at the exit, turning only to say, "See you later, Aelin," with a two-fingered salute before walking out.

Aelin stood, staring at the place where he had been standing just moments ago, trying to calm her heartbeat enough to move. Whatever _that_ was, she knew it meant nothing. It was just Rowan trying to get under her skin. 

She seriously needed to get her hormones under control.


	10. Chapter 10

It had been far too long since Aelin had been to Adarlan's grill, and far too long since she had seen Chaol and Dorian. She spotted them easily as she scoured the restaurant, their familiar heads of black and light brown hair bent together in discussion. There had been a time where her head was always bent with them, trading jabs and witty comments, but busy lives and a messy breakup and driven a wedge between her and the boys. They were back to their easy camaraderie now, of course; once they overcame the awkwardness and lingering bitterness after she and Chaol's split, they fell back into their old dynamic with ease. Aelin had always gotten along with the boys effortlessly, and she had missed them desperately in the time they had spent at odds. She still saw them far less often than she would have liked- her schedule was grueling, and she spent a lot of time with her bandmates, and now, The Cadre- so she always treasured the days she spent with them. 

And it didn't hurt that this little outing would likely make headlines, further deterring those pesky dating rumors Rowan was so interested in squashing. She didn't have any pressing desire to shut down the speculation like Rowan seemed to, but like hell was she going to let him paint the situation to his liking. She would not let him make her look like she was sitting there pining for him while he played the field, thoroughly uninterested. If he wanted to make it known he wasn't interested in her, she would make it known she wasn't sitting around waiting for him. 

She didn't arrange their dinner for that purpose- they had planned on meeting up anyways- but this just so happened to work in her favor. Aelin going out with two very attractive men, one who happened to be her ex? That would be thoroughly analyzed by any outlets covering her and Rowan's relationship, which was practically all of them. Since the story kept snowballing, any gossip site who knew anything about bringing in viewers was talking about their story. 

The boy's heads popped up at her approach, Dorian's face breaking out into his usual easy grin. Chaol had a smile of his own, though his was much more subdued. They were so different in that way; Chaol was very serious, somber, almost a little shy, while Dorian was unreserved, buoyant and boisterous. But for some reason, they just clicked. 

Anyone could tell the ferocity of their friendship, so close they bordered more on brotherhood. For most people, it would have been intimidating to try to join their little group, but for Aelin, it just felt natural. She and Dorian clicked immediately- in so many ways, Dor was just the male version of herself, so they had no problem finding common ground. Conversation came easily, and they fed off of one another's energies, having far too much fun and eliciting quite a few sighs of woe from Chaol. Getting into Chaol's good graces had taken far longer. She thought he had a massive stick up his ass, and he thought she was petulant and arrogant. He never loosened up, never had any fun. He felt more like a babysitter than a friend. But eventually, she was able to draw some personality out of him, even if it was kicking and screaming. It was a slow progression, but she started seeing more of him, the real him. He cared about people, deeply. He gave himself into everything he did, no matter how mundane the task. He accepted nothing but the absolute best from himself.

In a lot of ways, he was exactly what Aelin needed at that time in her life. In that transitory stage- leaving behind adolescence, college, everything she had ever known to start a career in a new city, in a highly competitive field- she needed a rock to fall back on. She needed someone consistent, someone she could count on, someone who wouldn't surprise her. Chaol was fantastic, but he was predictable. His behavior followed a specific pattern, his morals near inflexible, so she always knew what to expect from him. He grounded her, helped rein in her wildness. And most of all, through him she was able to find herself. So much of her had been lost with Sam, so many pieces that she never really recovered, but with Chaol, she rediscovered who she was, and he helped her become comfortable with what she found. 

And in the same way, she drew Chaol out of his shell. She showed him there was more to life than professional success, that there was joy out there, if he would let it in. There was a happiness with her that he didn't have to work for, that he didn't have to earn- it was freely given. And in that knowledge, there was peace, for maybe the first time in his life. 

He was very easy to fall in love with. 

But eventually she left that transitory period, and the person she left as was not the same person she came in as. And Chaol was perfect for that first girl, but not for the second.

He wanted the earlier version of herself, the girl who was broken, the girl he could fix. He liked putting her back together, liked taking her hurting pieces and molding them into the girl he wanted. But when she started moving through all her trauma, starting gaining back some of that self-confidence, started embracing who she was, the good and the bad... it was too much for him. He couldn't adapt to her growth, couldn't accept who she truly was when she peeled back the veneer she had constructed so carefully that she had forgotten what she truly looked like underneath, so she had to let him go. 

She was upset about it for a while- he said some incredibly unkind things about her after the split, hurling insults at her character and her past- but looking back, she had no regrets. She had needed him to find herself, to find the piece of her heart she thought had been lost forever with Sam, to set her on the path towards recovery. And she liked to think she helped him find pieces of himself, too. 

"It's been ages, Ace," Dorian said, popping out of his chair to pull her into a hug. 

Aelin hugged him for a moment before pulling back, matching his grin with her own. "Well, Dorian, I saw you just a few weeks ago. You, on the other hand," Aelin said, pointing her finger at Chaol in mock accusation, "have been MIA. If I didn't know you better, I might think you've been avoiding me."

"I wouldn't dare." Chaol's face was dead serious, his hand held up in the scout's honor sign. Giggles erupted from her chest, and he burst into a grin of his own before pulling her into his arms. 

Once they settled into their seats they jumped right into conversation. "Life update, Aelin, stat," Dorian demanded. 

"Why me first?" she groaned. Her life was a bit of a shit-show right now. She would much rather hear about everything going on in their lives than delve into her own issues. 

"Because your life is objectively more interesting than either of ours," Chaol said. 

"And we haven't seen you in forever," Dorian chimed in. "Something fascinating must be happening, if it keeps you too busy to spend time with two of your best friends."

"Aw, afraid I'm going to ditch you for all my cool, superstar friends, Dor?"

"They may woo you with fame, A, but I have my blinding charm and good looks. You would never trade me away."

"True. Why lose one when I can have the best of both worlds?"

He flipped her off playfully, and Aelin grinned at him. She had missed this, the easy banter, the quick humor.

"Well, that guy you're spending all your time with these days doesn't seem very strong in the charm department," Chaol said. 

This was dangerous territory. Rowan was the last topic she wanted to get into, especially with Chaol. They had both thoroughly moved on, but that didn't mean she wanted to discuss her sexual frustrations with her ex. 

Casual dismissal it was. "Tell me about it. I've never known someone as surly as Rowan."

"You seem to get along well enough, from all those pictures you two post." It wasn't exactly a question, but Chaol's raised brow made it feel like one. 

Aelin wished she could just tell them about her and Rowan's arrangement. It's not that she didn't trust the boys, but the smartest way to keep their secret contained was to keep as little people in on it as possible. But even if she could tell them about their PR stunt, the required outings had ended days ago, and she and Rowan still ended up together in any free time they could scrounge up. She could tell them that their PR teams' had forced them into friendship, or she could tell them that she had started to enjoy Rowan's company far more than she wanted to. Both options were equally damning. Dodging the question was her only option.

Luckily, she'd had years of practice. Say enough to satisfy the question, but not enough to give any real answers. "You get used to him, after a while."

"But why even make the effort? From what I saw at the bar, he looked like a mythic prick," Dorian added.

Ambiguity was her friend. "We have an understanding."

They both just looked at her, unimpressed with her attempt at derailing the interrogation. "Since when are you vague and secretive?" Dorian asked, narrowing his eyes at her. 

"Since I've adopted being edgy and mysterious is my newest personality traits. Fame requires constant reinvention of one's person and I'm sorry, but I can't make any exceptions for you."

"Your attempts at diversion may work on weaker men, but not us," Dorian said. "We're both in peak mental shape."

"And we've known you for far too long to fall for your distractions. Spill." Chaol finished Dorian's thought, before leaning into his side, making a show of becoming a united front against her bullshit. Damn them for knowing her so well. 

"There's really nothing to tell. He can be a real dick, but once he warms up a little, he's a really good friend." She was surprised at how true her description of him rang. It had crept up on her, that good opinion, but it felt right. He still lashed out sometimes, but that part of him wasn't the dominant part, it was just the accumulation of years of repressed grief and anger bubbling to the surface. Once they'd gotten past that initial hostility, she'd found him to be fun, and dependable, a surprisingly good listener. He had a wicked sense of humor with a wit on par with her own. But beyond all of that, he was caring. He seemed genuinely interested in the things going on in her life, and when he wasn't actively working to suppress any glimmer of goodness in himself, he was kind to her. 

He matched her in so many ways. She felt a comfort with him she hadn't felt in ages, like his heart was made of the same stuff hers was. 

He was exactly what she needed. And that scared the shit out of her. 

The boys were both fixing her with doubtful looks. "He's nicer than he seems." She shrugged. At that, their doubtful look morphed into full-on questioning her sanity. "Sometimes," she conceded.

The waiter came at an excellent moment. Placing their orders offered a perfect break in the conversation, and Aelin was quick to start on a new topic once he was gone. She was desperate to hear what had been going on in Chaol and Dorian's lives, and they were more than willing to fill her in. Hearing about the mundanity of their issues was jarring- she'd forgotten what it was like to not have to consider your public image every time you made a decision. Dorian could crash at Chaol's house and no one would say a thing, but Aelin did the same thing and everyone and their mothers knew about it. How nice it must be, to know your issues were only known to you and those you choose to tell, not pried out of your unwilling hands and broadcasted to the general public.

Dinner stretched for over two hours, the three sitting and talking long after their meals had been finished. There was never a lull in the conversation, every break filled with a new story or an old memory, a burning question or a teasing insult. They talked about Dorian's family, mostly their dysfunction, and the state of the bar, about Chaol's breakup with Nesryn and the crazy customers he's dealt with, about her rehearsals for the tour and all the drama between the bands at the label. 

Aelin always worries after spending so much time apart from her friends that she'll feel like an outsider in their lives, a stranger who's hearing about everything but not living it with them. But at that dinner, she wondered why she ever worried at all. They always slipped back into their friendship like they had seen each other yesterday. There was never any awkwardness, no stiff small talk or formal pleasantries. Even if she wasn't experiencing everything with them anymore, she still felt like an active part in their lives, and she certainly considered them to be an active part in hers. 

They closed Adarlan's down before moving to Dorian's. The bar was surprisingly busy for a Thursday night, and since Aelin still had rehearsals in the morning, she didn't let herself get too drunk. Bordering on tipsy, Aelin was sure she had never felt so light. Everything in the world felt fine, any worries having evaporated as soon as the alcohol hit her system. She wanted to call Lysandra, to tell her how amazing of a friend she was and how grateful Aelin that she stuck around, wanted to call Aedion, to tell him how much she loved him and how she thought he was the best cousin in the entire world, though he felt more like a brother to her. She wanted to call Rowan, wanted to tell him everything she had realized in her epiphany from earlier, wanted to tell him that even though he pissed her the hell off sometimes, she still wanted to run her fingers through his hair, to memorize the feel of his muscles underneath her palm, to trace the shape of his lips with her fingers and then with her own. 

Flooded with conviction, Aelin fished out her phone. Maybe this would solve all of her problems: communication. She should just start telling everyone exactly what she feels, when she feels it. All this hiding her emotions was making her brain hurt. 

The screen lit up with a sad little battery icon, drained to its last, red dregs. Damn. 

Shoving the phone back into her purse, Aelin searched the dance floor for her friends. She was frustrated that her phone had died at such an inopportune moment, but she was having too much fun to let that ruin her night. She spotted Dorian's shiny black hair in the crowd and started pushing her way towards him. 

She would just call Rowan in the morning. Problem solved. 

\-----------------------------------------------------

She did no such thing. 

Was she stupid? What the hell was she thinking?

Someone up there must have taken pity on her, and she would be eternally grateful for the divine intervention that had stopped her from completely ruining everything. She had just gotten on decent terms with Rowan, and now tipsy-her wanted to go spout off some nonsense about matching souls and how gentle he was? 

She could already imagine how that would be received. Best-case scenario, he ridiculed her mercilessly about it for the rest of her life. Worst-case scenario, he reverts back to the way he was before their day on the beach, hurling insults and hitting her right at her weak points, now that he knew them. She was enjoying being friends with him; she wouldn't risk altering, possibly losing, that relationship. 

Her phone pinged. _Speak of the devil_. 

**We still on for tonight?**

Thank god she hadn't called him last night, because she was really looking forward to this dinner. He had promised to make his mother's orecchiette recipe, and his meals never disappointed.

**As if I'd skip out on a free dinner**

**You know you're a very successful musician, right? You have more than enough money to buy yourself food**

**It's the _making_ part that's the issue, you know that**. He'd seen firsthand what a disaster she was in the kitchen. They'd narrowly avoided catching his house on fire.

**You could buy yourself some cooking classes**

**And burn down those innocent people's classroom? I could never. Plus, then how would I trick you into spending time with me? If I knew how to cook, I'd lose the helpless card**

**I'd spend time with you anyways, you brat. You just want to be spoiled.**

She couldn't stop the smile slowly creeping across her face. The lightness filling her chest reminded her of how she had felt last night, only with far more rational sense. **Such blasphemy will not be tolerated**

**Whatever you say, Princess. Meet me at my house after rehearsal.**

After sending a thumbs-up emoji, Aelin went to her bathroom to get ready for the day, scrolling mindlessly through her social media as she did. It seemed last night's outing had done the trick. A quick search pulled up several articles questioning her relationship status yet again. Some were focusing on the fact that she was spending time with her ex, even though this wasn't the first time she had been out with him post-breakup and Dorian was there, too. They seemed to think that the fact that they were hanging out at all was an indication that they might be back together. Some were good enough to report it as just a casual outing with friends. One suggested that Aelin might be in a throuple with Chaol and Dorian.

Aelin thought about it all on the drive up to the studio. Hopefully, these new rumors would get everyone off of her and Rowan's ass, but their story was so big, she doubted it would disappear that easily. Lots of fans were dedicated to their supposed relationship, and not every news source had been thoroughly convinced by Rowan's statement. Many of them thought they were just lying to maintain some privacy, that they had been secretly dating for weeks now and were just trying to throw everyone off their scent. She wasn't sure those people could ever be deterred. This might just have to become the new normal for her, at least for a few months, possibly years.

Lysandra pulled up to the studio at the same time Aelin did, promptly jumping into the topic Aelin had just been thinking about. "Wow, your relationship status really has been the talk of the town lately."

"It seems they're really desperate to tie me down."

"Hey, better than you actually being in a relationship, because you know what'll come then."

At Aelin's blank look, Lysandra clarified, looking at Aelin like she was stupid. "Pregnancy rumors."

"Oh, fuck me," Aelin groaned, slapping her hand over her face. She hadn't even considered anything like that, but with how invested people seemed to be in her personal life, she wouldn't doubt it. 

"Yeah, good luck with that. As soon as you get a boyfriend, there'll be at least three separate occasions where people will think you're hiding a baby bump." 

"I'm becoming a recluse. Starting today I'm going off the grid and no longer participating in society. Maybe then people will give it a rest."

"I doubt it." Lys sighed contentedly. "It's times like these that I'm glad I'm just the guitarist. I get less recognition and fame then you, but I don't have to put up with half the shit that you do."

Aelin threw a glare at her best friend. "You could try to sound a little less smug about it."

Lysandra threw her arm over Aelin's shoulder, a grin breaking out on her face. Aelin was sure she wasn't that amused by Aelin's prospective baby rumors. Aedion likely had something to do with this lingering happiness, since Lys had slept over at his house last night. Aelin didn't want any details, so she let it slide. 

Rehearsals were going well. With a little over two weeks left until the tour started, the set was sounding really strong. Her vocal coach was killing her in sectionals, but Aelin was glad to work on the precision. She would rather rehearse for hours and push herself to her limits than have her voice crack onstage. Aelin, specifically, was in the home stretch, because she would stop singing at rehearsals a week before they left, a precautionary vocal rest so she would be in the best possible shape for the tour. 

The hours passed quickly, Aelin losing herself in the thrall of playing. Her body was aching after days spent on her feet in rehearsal, her throat a little scratchy from all the singing, but the concoction her vocal coach prescribed her soothed the irritation, and hopefully the weekend would allow her throat to heal. Even though her body was drained and she was starting to resent those same 15 songs they've been playing over and over again for weeks, Aelin didn't think she would ever get tired of this. She loved it- the writing, the rehearsals, the performances. If this was what she got to do for the rest of her life, Aelin could take any outlandish rumors.

The end of the day rolled around sooner than she had anticipated. By the time all the instruments were put away and everyone's belongings had been gathered, it was nearing six. They all split up, Manon and Elide going to watch a movie, Lys to Aedion's house, and Aelin to Rowan's.

Aelin needed Lys to drop her off at Rowan's house to avoid anyone knowing she was there, so Lysandra followed her to her apartment complex, where Aelin deposited her car and joined her friend, who promptly sped off. Rowan's house was relatively close to Aelin's- only a ten-minute drive on a good day- but Friday night traffic made it 25. Rowan was home by the time they arrived, and likely had been for a while. 

As she reached for the door handle, Lys stopped her with a hand on her wrist. "We don't need to have the safe sex talk, do we?" she asked, voice dripping with mock sincerity. 

"Ha, ha. I'll see you tomorrow, Lys."

"I expect a full run-up on tonight's events when you do."

"Even if we have hot, dirty sex?" she teased. 

" _Especially_ if you have hot, dirty sex."

Aelin burst into laughter. "I'm leaving now."

She had Lys drop her off in the back, having learned from past mistakes, so she wound her way through Rowan's backyard to the large patio door. From this angle she could see him in the kitchen, the sleeves to his navy button-up pushed above his elbows, a dishtowel slung over his shoulder. He was staring intently at the task in his hand: small chunks of dough. 

Aelin rapped on the glass and Rowan's head shot up, a small smile breaking on his lips as he jogged over towards her. 

"Took you long enough."

"We live in L.A., you know how Friday night traffic is. What are you doing?" 

Rowan had resumed his position at the island, the little pieces of dough sitting on a wood cutting board. Now that she was closer, Aelin could see the dough was split into two piles: one was plain little balls, the others with depressions in the middle. "I'm shaping the noodles."

"You're making the pasta from scratch?" Aelin pulled herself onto the counter, watching as he pressed his thumb into the segment of dough, forming the curved shape. 

"Of course. You think I would invite you over for mediocre pasta from the box?"

Looking at him move through the kitchen, Aelin thought he looked completely in his element. So many things were happening at once- the dough was being formed, a pot of water was boiling on the stove, another pot of what looked like homemade sauce was being stirred periodically- and he moved through it all with ease, gracefully shifting his attention between all the different aspects of the meal. "Where did you learn to cook like this?"

"My mother." Rowan had an amused smile on his face as he remembered. "My father was horribly inept in the kitchen, so she made it a point to teach me how to cook well so I could take care of myself when I was grown."

"Smart woman."

"Incredibly so. She made sure I learned everything- the basics, like cooking and cleaning, but also things like how to pay my taxes and how to invest. She watched so many people in her life flounder since they never learned those things, and she never wanted that to happen to me. I complained about it to no end then, but now I'm incredibly grateful for all the things she taught me. I've used nearly every single one of them, and it's saved me a lot of grief over the years."

"My parents were more of the help-as-you-go type, which worked well for me," Aelin said. "I was always a little wild, hard to contain- they tried to teach me things proactively, but I usually had to learn my lessons by living them. I didn't learn not to touch the stove until I was burned. So when I eventually faced an issue I had no idea how to handle, but my parents were always right there, ready to jump into the thick of it with me and help me figure it out. Now that I'm older, I'm better at figuring things out on my own, but I know that they're always waiting in the wings, ready to offer their guidance if I ever need it."

"It seems our parents knew what they were doing- we both turned out alright," Rowan mused. "Well, minus you not being able to cook for yourself."

"Hey, that is not my parents' fault! They tried to teach me, they really did, but I have a predisposition for kitchen fires. God knew I would be too powerful if I could cook on top of all my other skills, so he made it my Achilles heel."

" _That's_ your tragic flaw? Lack of culinary skills?"

"Of course, I have no others," Aelin joked, tossing her hair over her shoulder. 

"Hmm, I think I could name a few." Rowan cocked an eyebrow at her as he carried the cutting board to the bubbling pot of water and slid the noodles in. 

"No, any perceived flaws of mine are simply you projecting your own faults onto me." Aelin flashed him a teasing grin, and he only heaved a tired sigh.

Once the pasta was cooking, Rowan set to work on the meat. The sauce was about done, simmering the pot to keep warm, so he heated a saucepan before placing the chopped beef in it. Dividing his attention between stirring the pasta and cooking the meat, Aelin went to work setting the table. While they both flitted around the kitchen, they took the time to trade stories from the past few days. It had only been two days since they'd seen each other last, but with their busy lives, there was always a myriad of new stories to tell. Rowan seemed to find her latest dating fiasco hilarious, laughing so hard that Aelin snatched the towel off of his shoulder and whacked him with it. He was still laughing as he recoiled from her blow, light as it was, before lunging forward to steal the towel back. Unwilling to relinquish her weapon, Aelin dodged, and dodged again, until he was chasing her around the kitchen. He finally caught up to her, his arm slung across her waist, restraining her as he pried the fabric from her hands, winding it back and slapping it against her side. She yelped, but they were both laughing. 

Chests heaving, they just stared at each other, their grins never wavering as the seconds stretched into moments, and she just let herself stare at the pine green eyes that had wormed their way into her life. A ringing alarm snapped both of their heads over to the stove. Rowan's phone was buzzing as his timer went off, and he hurried over to the food, turning the stove off. Scooping a few noodles out of the pot, Rowan blew on them for a moment before popping them into his mouth. "Perfect. Everything's ready. You want to bring the bowls over?"

Grabbing the dishes, Aelin carried them over to the stovetop, where Rowan had combined the freshly strained pasta with the simmering sauce and was now mixing in the beef. She had to admit, it looked delicious, and the smell wafting from the pot was mouthwatering. After spooning the pasta into the bowls, Rowan grabbed a bottle of wine and took his seat at the dining room table. 

Once their glasses were filled, she and Rowan dug in. Taking the first bite, Aelin almost moaned. The pasta was much better than any store-bought kind she'd ever tasted, the flavor infused into the noodles perfectly. She could taste every little ingredient, the tomato and garlic and basil all blending flawlessly with the tenderness of the noodles and the meat. She would have complimented Rowan, had she not known it would go to his already overly-inflated ego. And from the knowing smirk he gave her as he watched her eat, she figured he already knew. 

The meal went faster than she had realized. Rowan was recounting memories in the kitchen with his mother, and Aelin was enthralled. She hadn't realized she wasn't leaning towards him as she listened until their knees were almost touching. Her head was propped on her fist as Rowan gestured with his hands, explaining his stories in vivid detail. Aelin piped in with some tales of her own every now and then, and Rowan seemed just as interested as she was. 

By the time they finished, they were both clutching their stomachs from laughing, their chairs pushed until they were nearly side by side. Carrying the bowls over to the sink, Rowan washed the dishes while Aelin dried. Once the dishwasher was on and the larger pans were soaking, Aelin followed Rowan to the table, where he started wiping down the wood. When he straightened, a flash of black caught her eye, and she was reaching out before she fully thought about what she was doing. 

"Wait-" he froze as her fingers brushed over his cheek, sweeping the eyelash off of his skin. Holding her fingertip in front of his face, she looked up at him. "Make a wish."

He just stared down at her, unmoving. Every muscle in his body was tensed, his jaw clenched like he was restraining himself. She wasn't sure if she had upset him, or overstepped his boundaries, so she was about to retract her hand when he blew out, sending the eyelash fluttering down, never taking his eyes off of her own. She felt frozen by his gaze, unable to move her hand, unable to move her body. All she could do was stand there, to feel his cool breath fan over her face, to feel the heat in his eyes bore into her own.

It was that heated gaze that woke her up, that sparked the heat she had simmering inside of her. She moved slowly, hesitantly, never straying her eyes from his own, and trailed her fingers along his cheek again. She felt him release a shaky breath at the feeling of her fingertips against his skin, so she flattened her hand and carded it into his hair like she had been aching to do for weeks now. The fine strands were silky under her hand, and Rowan's eyes fluttered shut at her ministrations, his head falling back into her palm. He released what sounded like a purr as she dragged her hand through his hair and back to his cheek, her other hand coming up to properly bracket his face. Leaving one hand on the side of his face, Aelin let the other trail down, her pointer finger dancing around the shape of lips. 

At that moment, he snapped his eyes open. Grasping her wrists, he pulled her hands away from his face and stepped away from her. He stared at her in surprise before slamming his mask back into place, a cool hardness overtaking his features. Aelin felt her heart crack in her chest. 

"We can't do this, Aelin." She couldn't place the emotion in his voice. 

"What do you mean?"

"I mean we _can't_ do this."

"I didn't mean to push you, if you aren't ready after Lyria-"

"That's not-" He huffed, taking control of himself. "We just can't."

She felt the familiar burn of anger bubble in her veins. "Could be a little less vague? What are you talking about?"

"Can't you just leave it alone, Aelin?"

"Why can't you just talk to me? First your conversation with Maeve-" he flinched at that reminder, "-and now with this. Do you not trust me?"

"Can't _you_ trust _me_ when I say this has nothing do you with you?"

"Bullshit it doesn't. What happened to finding our way out together?" She tossed her hands up in frustration before taking a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "I understand if you aren't ready to talk about certain things, but you could at least tell me that. How are we supposed to do this if you keep shutting me out?" 

"There is no 'this,' Aelin. There's just me. There can only be me."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" 

He pressed the heel of his hand against his forehead. "Why does it even matter so much to you?"

"Because I care about you, Rowan! Is that so hard to believe?"

He stared at her, wide-eyed at her admission. "You can't."

"I _can't_?"

"Aelin, there are things you don't understand, things that I can't tell you." He still looked frustrated, but there was a pleading tone in his voice that caught her off guard. She didn't know what he was trying to say, and she was growing tired trying to guess. 

Aelin had humiliated herself enough for one night, and she obviously wasn't going to get anywhere with this conversation. "You don't have to make up some bullshit to try to spare my feelings. If you're not interested, just say so. No need to put us both through this." Aelin strode towards the door, planning on grabbing her purse and leaving. She needed time to lick her wounds, to nurse her injured pride before she could face Rowan again. 

He didn't want her. She had spent so long denying her feelings for him that she hadn't realized their true magnitude. She hadn't realized how much his rejection would hurt. 

"Aelin, I never said-" She paused at his words, her back to him, hands pressed to the wooden table by his front door. She was so lost in her thoughts that she hadn't even heard his approach, only felt herself getting spun around by a large hand on her arm. His face had changed- gone was the stoic, blank look. There was still lingering irritation on his face, but in his eyes there was unrestrained desire. Aelin felt arrested by the intensity of his gaze, caught off guard by the abruptness of his change in demeanor.

"You're so infuriating," he said, before he grasped her face between his palms and kissed her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ugh I feel like this chapter is shit I'm sorry :( but yayyyy we're getting somewhere with them!! I hope you guys are liking the fic and doing well!!!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this beginning of this chapter is a lil spicy :)))) so if that's not your thing skip to the second text break/the third chunk of text!!! I'm sure you can infer what happens lol

The heat of his kiss burned away any surprise she had. 

Had she any presence of mind, Aelin would have been thoroughly confused at his sudden change in demeanor, but Rowan's hands were on her skin and his mouth was on her own and she had lost the ability to form coherent thoughts. She distantly remembered wanting to bash his face against the wall not two minutes ago, remembered the sting of his rejection and the fear that she would lose him for good, but all that was a far cry from what she felt now. 

Now, all she felt was the hard planes of his chest under her hands. All she felt was the brush of his fingers through her hair and down her back, settling onto her waist as he pulled her against him. All she felt was the burning desire to align every inch of his body to hers, to kiss him until her breath ran out. 

He seemed perfectly willing to comply. 

His lips were hard against hers, and as soon as she recovered from her shock, she returned the kiss with just as much fervor. It was hungry, a desperate coming together after weeks of tension and build-up, even if they hadn't recognized it as such at the time. Aelin wrapped her arms around his neck, molding the front of her body to his, and Rowan was sliding his hands anywhere he could reach, tracing every dip and curve of her body with greedy fingers. 

Finishing his circuit down her figure, Rowan slid his palms onto her cheeks again. He tilted her face upward, offering a better angle to deepen the kiss. Aelin gasped as his lips parted her own, digging her fingernails into his shoulder blades and dragging a low groan from his throat. He pressed even closer to her, walking her backwards until her back hit the front door. Aelin felt like she was on fire; his touch was igniting every inch of her and she had no problem letting herself become engulfed in the flames.

Rowan separated from her briefly, and Aelin almost whined at the distance, but he only moved his attentions to her jaw. He moved his lips steadily along her jawline and down her throat, covering the length of her neck in open-mouthed kisses. Aelin pushed her fingers into his hair, pulling on the strands as his lips danced across her skin. " _Aelin_ ," he murmured, using his hands to tilt her jaw up, giving him greater access to her neck. The heat of his breath on her skin was enough to make her shudder, but when he sucked on her pulse-point and dragged his tongue along her throat, Aelin couldn't hold back her moan. 

Using her grip on his hair, Aelin steered Rowan back up towards her, colliding her lips with his once again. Aelin's hands were eager now, exploring his body just as he had explored hers. There was a desperate tinge to her actions, as if she was trying to memorize as much of him as possible before the spell broke. She pushed that thought away before it could even really surface- whatever change of heart Rowan had, she was going to ride it out as long as she could. If this was all she would ever get of him, she'd be damned if she ruined it.

She ran her hands over his chest, feeling the definition of the muscles underneath her palms, but the fabric of his button-down was getting in the way. Before she could think twice about it, Aelin was pulling the hem of his shirt out from his jeans and sliding her hands under the fabric. Rowan sucked in a shaky breath at the sensation of her fingers on his bare skin, the muscles in his abdomen tensing under her fingers. He was panting, his forehead pressed against hers and his eyes squeezed shut, as if he were relishing in her touch.

If he was relishing, god knows what she was doing. She felt as if she were mapping out his body, creating a mental image of him from touch alone. The feel of his body and the sound of his breathing and the way he whispered her name- it was all making heat pool deliciously in her core, and as much as she was enjoying this, she was ready to move past the playing. 

Rowan sighed into her mouth as Aelin connected their lips again, starting to open the buttons on his shirt. She had only undone half of them when Rowan pulled the fabric over his head, eager to remove any barriers between them. She hardly had time to admire his exposed chest, because as soon as Rowan was rid of his shirt he moved on to hers. Grasping the hem of her tank top, he slid it up slowly, giving her ample time to stop him if she wanted to, but all she did was raise her arms and help him discard the material.

Her chest was heaving as his eyes roamed slowly down her torso, lingering on her breasts, clad in a plain black bra. His gaze was heady. When he dragged his eyes back to hers, the unrestrained desire in his stare stole the breath from her lungs. They looked at each other for a long moment before surging back together. 

Rowan bent down slightly, sliding his hands beneath her thighs and wrapping her legs around his waist. Bracing her back against the door, Rowan pressed himself against her fiercely, the pressure of his lips opening hers, and she dragged her nails lightly down the bare skin of his back. From the new position, Aelin could feel the growing bulge in his pants pressed right where she needed him, and the friction pulled a groan out of both of them. 

Suddenly, Aelin could no longer feel the cool wood on her back. Rowan was walking them down a hallway- to his bedroom, she assumed, but Aelin had no time to take in her surroundings, since Rowan never broke their kiss. All she could focus on was the way his lips moved and the feeling of his bare skin against hers and the fact that he _wanted_ her, just as bad as she did him. 

Rowan never stumbled as he carried her, never seemed to adjust to the new weight. He walked with intent, and before she knew it, there was a mattress underneath her. He laid her down with heartbreaking gentleness, such a sharp contrast to the fiery passion of just a few moments ago. With her head resting on his pillows, Aelin extended her arms up, reaching for his shoulders to pull him down with her. When he settled on top of her, his lips eagerly returning to hers, his hands slid up, up, up her torso, fingering the hem of her bra. Aelin lifted her chest, reaching behind herself to unclasp her bra and slid it over her shoulders. 

His pupil expanded over nearly the entirety of his iris as his eyes roved over her chest. Meeting her eyes again, Rowan grasped her face between his palms and said, "You're beautiful, Aelin. So fucking beautiful." His lips were on hers before she could compliment him in kind. 

Rowan made his way down her throat again, this time moving farther down, kissing between her breasts before focusing his attention on one at a time. Aelin threw her head back when his mouth closed over her breast, releasing an indistinguishable moan that might have been his name. His hand closed around her other breast, the twin stimulation making Aelin writhe underneath him. 

When he had pulled a significant amount of cries from her, he moved farther down still, kissing his way down her stomach until he reached the top of her jeans. He ran his nose across the waistband before looking up at her, eyebrow cocked in question. He was back to work before she had even finished nodding, popping open the buttons on her pants with his teeth. His hands gripped the top of her jeans and her underwear and pulled them down at the same time, shimmying them down her legs before tossing them across the room. 

The warmth of Rowan's lips on her ankle sent a shock through her, one that only increased in intensity as his lips made their way up her legs. Her breathing grew heavier as she felt him approach the spot where she so desperately needed him, but he just kept nipping at the skin of her thighs, deftly avoiding any real contact. Aelin grumbled at his teasing, and he huffed a laugh, his breath fanning across her sensitive center, making her muscles clench. His eyes darkened at that. Playtime was over, then. 

Without another word, Rowan pressed his mouth into her aching center. God, he knew what he was doing. His tongue moved over all the right spots, in all the right motions, and it was like endless waves of bliss crashing over her. As soon as one seemed to end, another was looming over, ready to crest. And when he started using his fingers in tandem with his mouth, Aelin couldn't believe the amount of pleasure she was feeling. Maybe it truly had just been too long since she'd been laid, but she was sure Chaol had never made her feel this good. 

She was letting out sounds so filthy it was a blessing they were at Rowan's place and not hers- surely Rowan's neighbors were far enough away that they wouldn't hear anything. Rowan made his fair share of noise, too; he seemed to enjoy giving just as much as she was enjoying receiving. Every now and then he would groan, his face still pressed against her, and the vibrations it sent through her body were almost too much. 

It wasn't until she had peaked not once, but twice that Rowan rose, licking his fingers clean before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. If Aelin hadn't been incredibly turned on already, she definitely was now. He lowered down over her, the rough fabric of his jeans rubbing her oversensitive core. Before he could move any further, Aelin pressed a hand to his chest and flipped them over. There was a dark surprise in Rowan's eyes, a deep expression that made her stomach turn over in anticipation. But before he could pull her onto him, she leaned over and gave him a sweet kiss and whispered, "My turn."

Holding Rowan's head in place, Aelin started her descent down his body. The light stubble dusting his jaw was sharp on her lips, but she didn't mind the sensation. She felt more than saw him swallow heavily, his Adam's apple moving under her mouth. He was as rigid as a statue, every muscle in his body tensed as she kissed and licked her way down his chest. She traced the lines of his muscles with her lips, following the hard flesh down until she hit the thick fabric of his pants. Pulling his jeans and his briefs down his legs, she tossed them aside and watched as the length of him sprang free. He was larger than any man she'd been with, larger than she had anticipated. And from the satisfied male smile creeping across his face, she knew he could tell. Somehow, her body found more heat to send down to her core, the clenching desire in her stomach becoming almost painful. But she could wait. 

Reaching down, Aelin closed her hand around him, moving her wrist up and down. He may know what he was doing, but so did she. She moved her hand expertly over him, rubbing from the base to the tip and back down again. His head was thrown to the side, his eyes clenched as she swirled her hand, using her thumb to spread the moisture beading at the top. After a few moments, Aelin started moving her head down, prepping for what she was really waiting for, but he pulled her back up into a stinging kiss before she could put her mouth on him. 

"Enough teasing," he said, his voice guttural.

"You're one to talk. Besides, I was just getting to the fun part." Her eyes glittered darkly. 

He licked his lips slowly, never taking his eyes off of her. "There'll be plenty of time for that later."

"What's the rush?" she asked innocently, twirling a lock of his hair between her fingers. 

With a growl, he flipped them over so that he was hovering over her once again. He was positioned between her legs, and Aelin could feel the hot length of him pressed against her. Running his hand down her thigh, he hiked it around his waist, slowly rolling his hips into her. The moan Aelin let out was sinful. "We've waited long enough," he said, his eyes burning into hers.

She couldn't argue with that.

Slinging her other leg around his waist, Aelin gripped his hair in her fingers, keeping her eyes on his as he slid into her. Her eyes shuttered closed halfway in, the stretch like nothing she had experienced before. Once he was seated fully inside of her, he buried his face into her neck. "God, Aelin." 

There was little pain, since she had been so thoroughly prepared, but her body still needed a moment to adjust to his size. When she was ready, she shifted her hips a little, urging him to move. He got the hint, moving slowly at first, pulling almost completely out before carefully pushing back in. The pleasure was immeasurable, but gentleness wasn't what Aelin wanted, not now. Digging her nails into his back, she urged him faster, harder.

"What is it you want, Aelin?" he asked, his movements slowly picking up speed. 

"All of it," she moaned. "Everything. You."

He didn't need anything else spelled out.

And she couldn't think of anything else but his name that night as the sky exploded into a thousand suns. 

\----------------------------------------------------

Hours later, once it was all over, Aelin laid with her head pillowed on Rowan's chest. She knew he wasn't asleep, but they were both content to sit in the silence. His breathing was rhythmic underneath her, his arm wrapped around her back, pulling her into his torso. She was comfortable, here in the perfect ball of bliss that she had been in for the past few hours. She didn't want to think about what this meant, or specifically if this meant something different to Rowan than it did to her. 

He had always made it blindingly apparent that he wasn't interested. Not that she had ever really come on to him, but she could tell she never caught his eye. She wasn't sure if he was just horny and she was here, and this would just be a casual thing they never talked about again. But worse than that was the fear that he had only done it because he felt bad rejecting her. She knew he had enjoyed himself, but what if he had only done it at all because he knew she wanted to and he didn't want to upset her? She didn't know if she could take that, if her heart could survive it. 

Rowan's fingers started moving through her hair, gently brushing through the mussed strands. "We should probably talk about all of this." 

It was as if he read her mind. She knew they needed to, knew that she needed to know, but she couldn't help the panic that rose in her chest at the idea. If this changed something for them, if he didn't want to see her anymore- she wasn't sure what she would do. She had grown far too attached to him than she had meant to. She would just be vague, let him steer the conversation. "Yeah."

She tilted her head up, analyzing his face as he looked up at the ceiling. His brow was pinched in thought. After a moment, he sighed and looked down at her, his hands tightening around her. "Tomorrow?" he asked.

A small smile crept onto her lips. "Tomorrow."

And as Rowan hauled her over him, Aelin let herself stay in that ball of bliss for a little longer. 

\---------------------------------------------

Aelin awoke to a heavy weight pressed against her chest and a thin sheen of sweat coating her body. Whatever blanket Rowan had given her was giving her a heatstroke. But when she went to grasp the fabric, she was met with hard muscle. Looking down, she saw a shock of silver hair nestled into her chest, and two strong arms banded around her waist. Aelin was still incredibly hot, but much less inclined to move. Somehow, in the middle of the night, Rowan had managed to get almost completely on top of her, his torso settled between her hips. 

And damn her if that didn't make her heart clench. 

She wanted to soak this moment in- the warm sunlight cascading in from the windows, highlighting all the platinum highlights in his hair. The softness of his face in sleep, and the steadiness of his breathing. The pleasantness of his body pressed against hers, which brought back a host of memories from the past night and the activities that had kept them up so late. Only his profile was visible from where his face was pressed against her chest, the sharp lines of his cheekbone and nose visible against the deep blue material of his shirt, now on her body. 

She couldn't stop herself from dragging her fingers through his hair, the short locks slipping between her fingers with ease. He stirred slightly, but didn't rise, so Aelin let her fingers trace the contours of his face, moving over the high cheekbones to the sharp chin and his full lips. She hadn't realized he had woken until she felt his lips press against her fingers of their own volition while she traced. Aelin moved to pull her hand back, but Rowan grasped her wrist, pulling her hand down to his cheek. "Good morning," he mumbled, his voice scratchy with sleep. 

Aelin did her best to keep her voice steady, though she knew Rowan could probably hear her racing heart from his position. "Good morning. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

Rowan let out an enormous yawn as he rolled off of her, settling on his side with his face still impossibly close to hers. "It's fine. It is getting late anyways."

She hadn't even checked the time, but now that he pointed it out, a clock on his bedside table read almost 10:45. Letting her head fall back into the pillows, Aelin groaned. "God, Lysandra's probably wondering why I didn't go home last night. We're lucky she hasn't called the police yet."

Rowan chuckled at that. "She's not your mother. What is she going to do, ground you for staying out all night?

"With the way that girl worries, I wouldn't put it past her. I should have texted her last night, but you and I got a little... preoccupied." Aelin averted her gaze, trying to diffuse some of the awkwardness of the subject. 

But Rowan didn't seem to feel awkward about it at all. "That's a mild way of putting it." He rolled out of bed, pulling a pair of sweatpants out of his drawer and sliding them over his briefs. Aelin simply watched, rapt by the movement of his body as he walked. He didn't bother to find a shirt. "Coffee?" he asked. 

"Duh," she said, snapping out of her reverie. Rowan was already out the door before Aelin slid out of bed. Touching down on the hardwood floor, her feet recoiled from the chill. She figured she was covered enough in Rowan's gigantic shirt, but she snatched some socks from his dresser before she met him in the kitchen. 

The coffee was already brewing when she walked in, the sweet smell drifting through the air. Aelin's phone was still on the foyer table, where she had left it last night, so she grabbed it and settled into the kitchen table. She winced as she scrolled through the messages from Lys, starting out suggestive and ending panicked. Lysandra didn't live with her, but they always texted each other when they made it home after a night out. It had become a routine, one to keep them safe, and Lys was halfway to thinking she was dead in a ditch somewhere. 

Aelin knew she needed to explain everything to Lys, but she needed to deal with Rowan first. **Lys- I'm so, so sorry I didn't text you last night. I got really distracted and misplaced my phone. I'm perfectly fine, don't stress. Sorry to have worried you. I'll explain more in a little bit, okay? Love you**

By the time she had dealt with that, Rowan was walking towards her with two steaming mugs in his hand. He handed her one that was so light it was almost white. He must have loaded it up with creamer and sugar. She raised her eyebrow at him. 

"Oh please," he said, "I've been to enough coffee shops with you to know you like yours sweet."

She hid the smile tugging at her lips with her mug. It was perfect, just how she liked it.

They sat there for a moment, sipping their coffees and enjoying the quietness of the morning. Rowan was the first to break the silence. 

"So," he said, grimacing. "Last night..."

The grimace was a bad sign, a very bad sign. She should just blow it off so he doesn't have to go through the pain of letting her down easy, even if it kills her. "It's all right, Rowan. It's not a big deal."

His eyebrows pinched together. "What?"

"You've made your feelings on this subject abundantly clear over the past few weeks. I get it, this doesn't change anything. I won't make it weird."

"Aelin, that's not-" He was shaking his head, but Aelin was on a roll and she wanted to get it all off her chest before she lost her nerve.

"And I'm sorry if I pushed you into anything. Last night you were very clear that you didn't want me like that and I didn't mean to make you feel obligated or-"

She was silenced by a large hand covering her mouth. Rowan's hand was muffling her words, and he was looking at her incredulously. "Aelin, stop. You don't get it at all. You didn't pressure me into anything, and this wasn't some meaningless hookup. I- this means something to me."

Aelin was sure her face was a picture in bewilderment. This wasn't how she expected this conversation to go at all. 

He cut her off before she could say anything. "I know what it seemed like- believe me, I know. I know I was an asshole to you, and I know after everything I said last night you probably don't believe me, but it's not that I don't like you, I just," he took a steadying breath, "I can't have a girlfriend."

This was it, the part she had been dreading. The easy letdown- the "it's not you, it's me," and the "I'm not ready for a relationship right now." She felt heat rushing to her cheeks as she ducked her head in embarrassment. "I understand-

He reached out, grasping her wrist in his hand. "No, Aelin, I legally _cannot_ have a girlfriend."

Her eyes shot back up to his, surprise and confusion swirling in her mind. What the hell did that mean? Was this some new extreme in letdowns? But his eyes looked earnest, imploring. She must have heard him wrong. "What are you talking about?"

"Let's just start from the beginning. So, you know that The Cadre started out on YouTube, right? That was how Maeve found us." Aelin nodded. She'd heard their story countless times. 

"So, we already had a pretty decent fanbase when Maeve signed us. For some reason, the fans seemed to take a liking to me, specifically. You know how fans like to give us all roles- I was the bad boy, the heartthrob. I was a fan favorite, and many of the younger fans fancied themselves in love with me. It all went to my head immensely at the time, but then Lyria died, and we stopped putting out videos for a while. I didn't care about any of that; it all felt so trivial to the loss I was feeling. 

"Well, like I told you, the guys dragged me out to meet Maeve kicking and screaming. She gave me that little pep talk and I decided to start playing again, and she offered us a record deal. She gave us the contracts that day- at the coffee shop. There were no lawyers, no nothing. And we were young, and eager, and stupid, and she took advantage of that. I didn't even really read through mine before I signed it."

"Jesus," Aelin whispered, her hand pressed to her throat. It was a bitchy thing to do, to take advantage of young musicians like that, but especially one who was grieving the way Rowan was. It was immoral.

"Yeah, well. There was a clause in my contract that I didn't see when I signed. Maeve knew that I was the one the fans liked, and she knew that from what we had already seen, that pattern would continue as our fanbase grew. And she was right- there are tons of self-insert fanfictions about me, video edits of me, all kinds of things. A majority of the fan base really likes me, to the point where they want to date me, even if we'll never meet in real life. Maeve knew this, and saw a chance to capitalize on it. She thought that as long as I was single, I could play into these girls' fantasies of me, since I would still be "available." She thought that having me become the sex symbol of the band would bring in fans, and that if I ever had a girlfriend, it would make us lose fans, since those people would feel like they were "losing" me. So it was written into my contract that I would not have any type of relationship while I am working with her."

Aelin was at a loss for words. Of all the things she had thought he was going to say, this would have never crossed her mind. She sat there, opening and closing her mouth like a fish as she searched for something to say. She couldn't find anything.

"Normally, I would just say to hell with it, but you know Maeve. The kind of legal trouble she could get me in with this is insane. Not only could she take me to court and sue me for a shit-ton of money, she could completely ruin my reputation and end my career. So, legally, I can't have a girlfriend."

Now that she knew, it all made sense. His vague comments last night, his hushed conversation with Maeve in the hallway... "That day, in the hallway. She was angry because of the dating rumors about us." 

It wasn't really a question, but Rowan nodded his head gravely. "She didn't care much about the rumors at first- I mean, she didn't love it, but she wanted us to fake the friendship, and it came with the territory. Plus, the rumors didn't have any real ground. But when it looked like you were sneaking out of my house in the morning, _that_ gave them something substantial. She thought I was feeding the rumors, making it worse. That's what we were talking about in the hallway- she was pleasantly reminding me of my contractual obligation. And that's why I went and made that statement the next day. She made me, and I had to make it blunt, because she was very clear that I needed to squash any new hope."

"My God, Rowan. I'm... I'm so sorry."

"I've managed fine. But you deserved an explanation, for all of it. That's why I was such a bastard to you, too. I mean, I did think you were arrogant and annoying at the beginning, don't get me wrong, but I was always attracted to you. Once I started to realize how untrue my assumptions about you were, I realized that that attraction was far more than just physical. I knew that if I was ever with you, it wouldn't just be sex for me- I would want more. So I could never go there. 

"I handled that by being an asshole to you. I knew that if you were interested in me, I wouldn't have the strength to stay away, so I tried to make you hate me. Successfully, I might add."

"I don't hate you," Aelin said gently. 

"But you did." Rowan smiled ruefully. "And rightfully so. And I'm not going to pretend some fucked-up part of me didn't destroy your opinion of me because I was scared of my feelings for you. I was scared to let you in, after how things ended with Lyria, and lashing out kept all of that at bay. But you wormed your way in anyways."

"I understand, Rowan. I've been there too, believe me. I'm more of a denial person myself, though."

He laughed darkly. "I'm sorry about it, Aelin. All of it."

"It's all right." She said. He shook his head, so Aelin grasped her face between his hands and made him look at her. The sadness in his eye broke her heart. "I wouldn't change any of it, Rowan. Not one thing. Everything that happened back then brought us here, and I don't know about you, but I'm really happy with where I am right now."

He smiled. It was a sad, hopeful thing. "I'm incredibly happy with where I am right now."

Leaning in, Aelin pressed her mouth to his. This kiss was much more gentle than any of last night's. Last night was hungry and desperate, but they were in no rush anymore. It was slow and unhurried, eons stretching between their lips meeting and parting.

Eventually, Aelin pulled back, her breathing heavy. "So, what does this mean for us?"

Rowan furrowed his brow. "What do you mean?"

"You still can't have a girlfriend."

His face broke out into a grin. Leaning forward, he touched his lips to hers softly. "Well, we are pretty good at keeping secrets." His smile diminished a little as he thought. "Obviously, if you don't want to sneak around, I understand that. There are plenty of men you could be with who could go out-"

Aelin silenced him with her lips, pulling back to stare into his eyes, excitement bubbling in her chest. "I don't mind keeping secrets."


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow wow wow I am SO sorry this has taken so long!! my life got crazy busy these past few weeks but I promise I haven't forgotten about you guys!! thank you all so much for sticking around and having such an interest in my stuff, reading y'alls comments makes me so happy :)

Their coffee had long since gone cold by the time they got back around to breakfast- after their conversation, food had been the last thing on either of their minds. Aelin had barely had time to move their mugs out of the way before Rowan had hauled her onto the kitchen table. Their minimal clothing was strewn down his hallway as they made a slow progression back to his bed, back to the place they had been careening towards since the moment they'd met. 

Everything was slower, sweeter this time around. There was no longer an axe hanging over their heads, no longer a fear that this would be all they would ever get of each other. No, this time, there was no hurry. They had a newfound assuredness in one another, a comfort in the knowledge that they had nothing but time.

By the time they made it back into the kitchen, Aelin was ravenous. She'd spent the last twelve hours working up quite an appetite, and if Rowan's performance was anything to go by, she imagined he was hungry, too. Aelin found herself extremely grateful for Rowan's culinary skills- she had never been more excited to have an omelet at 2 pm. She had half of hers down in minutes, and Rowan wasn't far behind her. 

Once they had finished, Aelin took it upon herself to wash all of the dishes, declining Rowan's offer to help. She spent extra care scrubbing the pans, ensuring there wasn't an inch of residue left. After cleaning until there was nothing left to wash, Aelin scanned the room hurriedly before the coffee pot snagged her attention. "Should we start another pot? You know, since we didn't really get to drink our last one."

She found his pine green eyes flashing with amusement, a smirk playing on his lips. "Looking for excuses to stay?"

"What, I can't want coffee without some ulterior motive?" At his raised brow, she said, "I think you overestimate your abilities. I happen to have very real, nonsexual reasons to want another pot of coffee."

Pushing himself out of his chair, he stalked towards her, his flaming eyes never leaving hers as he approached. He backed her against the countertop, bracing his hands on the marble to either side of her hips. At this angle, he stood several inches above her, his head tilted down to look into her eyes. "Hmm, is that so? And what are these reasons?"

"An unhealthy dependence on caffeine to be a functional human being, for one."

"And the others?"

"A need for hydration after sweating out practically all the liquid in my body."

His smirk grew at that. "I think experts usually suggest water when one is feeling dehydrated."

"Since when do I follow the rules?"

Rowan's expression turned soft, his male pride diffusing back into bemusement. "You have to face her at some point, you know. No point in putting it off."

Aelin groaned, screwing her eyes closed and thumping her head against his chest. Damn him for seeing through her- admittedly rather pathetic- attempts at avoiding Lysandra. "I don't know how to face her."

He huffed a laugh before his hands came up around her, one rubbing soothing circles on her back while the other buried itself in her hair. "It's not like you committed a crime."

"I'm not sure she'll see it that way. I always text her when I make it home, and I made her worry all night. She's going to want an explanation, and I don't know what to tell her."

His lips were pressed into her hair when he said, "How about the truth?"

Aelin snapped her head back up, confusion and surprise warring on her face. "What?"

"We need to keep this from as many people as possible, yes, but I understand if you need to tell Lysandra." His eyes were soft as he spoke, his hand lazily brushing through her hair. "I know this whole situation won't be easy for you, and it's reasonable for you to want someone to talk to about all of this. She's your best friend- if you believe that she won't say anything, I trust your judgment." 

He was smiling softly at her, a look so full of adoration that Aelin didn't know if her heart was big enough to hold it all. Her chest felt tight at that look, at the trust he placed in her. Pressing onto her tip-toes, Aelin wrapped her arms around his neck. His arms quickly came up around her, clutching her tightly to his body, his face buried in her neck. "Thank you," she whispered.

"Of course." The heat of his breath tickled her skin. "But you might want to wash up first."

Aelin looked up at, mouth opening in mock outrage. "Are you saying I smell?'

"Not at all." He looked incredibly amused. "Only that we've been quite...active these past few hours, and I assume you'd want to tell Lysandra the truth yourself, rather than have her figure it out as soon as she looks at you."

Aelin narrowed her eyes at him, trying desperately to repress the smile pulling at her lips. She shoved him playfully before strutting towards his bathroom, heart swelling a the sound of his laughter echoing down the hallway. 

\-----------------------------------------------------------

Aelin was seriously considering turning around. She knew telling Lys wouldn't be that bad, and really, she wanted to share this with her best friend, but she was not looking forward to the gloating Lys would undoubtedly indulge in.

She was waiting in Aelin's apartment, having left her place within seconds of Aelin asking her to meet up. How she managed to get there before Aelin did was beyond her, but she knew that Lys was somewhere behind that door, armed with more questions than Aelin could answer. 

Before she could decide whether to sprint away or not, the door swung open, exposing Aelin to her friend's hard look. Aelin's brow furrowed, but Lys just grabbed her elbow and hauled her inside. "How did you-" Aelin started. 

Lysandra flipped her hand dismissively. "I could hear you breathing on the other side of the door." She dragged Aelin until they were both seated on her couch. "What the hell happened last night, Aelin? I was minutes away from calling the police."

Aelin raised her hands in a placating gesture. "I know, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. Things just a got a bit carried away last night and I completely forgot to text you."

"Carried away with what? What happened?"

Aelin looked at her friend for a moment, attempting to express the seriousness of the situation with her features. "This goes nowhere"

Lysandra pulled her chin in a little, obviously not expecting such a weighty subject. "What the fuck did you do?"

"I mean it, Lys. Not the other girls, not Aedion, _no one_."

She could tell Lysandra was a little surprised- Aelin was close with the other girls, and especially so with her cousin. It was unlike her to keep something from them. "Of course, A, you know I'll keep your secrets. What's going on?"

Aelin spent another moment staring, internally warring on how best to handle this situation. Eventually, she decided it was best to just come out with it. "I slept with Rowan."

Lysandra's mouth fell open, her eyes wide as she scanned Aelin's, looking for signs of deception. After a moment, she choked out, "Rowan Whitethorn?"

Aelin just nodded, her lips pinched together nervously. 

"Last night?"

She nodded again. Lys's lips were still parted in shock, her eyes shifting quickly back and forth. She turned her face away from Aelin, falling back into the cushions as she processed this information. "Oh my god."

Aelin looked at her uneasily. "This is not how I expected you to react. I was waiting for you to say 'I knew it.'"

Lys turned back towards her. "Well, I knew you would do it, of course, but I didn't think you would _actually_ do it!"

"That didn't make any sense."

If Lysandra heard what she said, she didn't acknowledge it. "Was last night the first time?"

"Yes, but I think it had been building for a while."

"Well, I could have told you that." Lys tossed her hair over her shoulder, tucking her legs up under her. "Okay, start from the beginning."

So Aelin told her everything, recounting every detail from the past night to her best friend. Lys was listening with rapt attention, her head propped on her fist as she leaned in towards Aelin. She interrupted her only once, interested in confirming a certain hunch about Rowan's anatomy, but beyond that, she let Aelin spill everything on her chest. When Aelin got to their conversation this morning, Lysandra gasped. Her eyebrows pinched, looking almost angry on Rowan's behalf. By the time Aelin finished, Lysandra was sitting in stunned silence, although it wasn't long before her questions started bubbling up.

"Why didn't you tell me you liked him? I mean, I knew, of course, but why didn't you talk to me about it?"

Aelin felt blood rising to her cheeks. "I didn't really recognize I did until last night. I had moments where I felt attracted to him, sure, but I kept pushing it all down, so much so that I didn't even realize how much I cared for him until I thought he rejected me."

"So now you two are... together?"

"Yes," Aelin sighed, a smile breaking across her face. "But no one can know. It's not that I don't trust the others, but if this gets out, Rowan could get in serious trouble. Telling more people just opens doors for something to accidentally slip. Keeping this between as few of us as possible is the best way to keep it under wraps."

"Does Rowan know you're telling me?'

"Yeah, of course. It was his idea."

Lys tilted her head at that. "Well, you know I won't tell anyone. This all stays between you and me. But A... you're sure about this? I know you two have been getting along recently, and I know his story puts a lot of things into perspective, but all the things he's said..." She shook her head slightly. "I just don't want to see you get hurt."

Reaching out, Aelin squeezed Lysandra's hand. "I know, Lys. But I know what I'm doing. I know how he came off in the past, but he's not like that. Really." Lysandra still looked rather unconvinced. Aelin couldn't exactly blame her- Lys had picked up her shattered pieces too many times not to worry about her breaking again. Hell, if the roles were reversed, Aelin would be hesitant to let Lys date someone who had treated her the way Rowan had. But Aelin trusted him with her heart- more than the logical side of her mind wanted her to, but there was nothing she could do about it. She just needed Lys to see that. "I... I told him about Sam."

Lys's eyes widened, her eyebrows shooting up her forehead. Aelin knew that would get her message across. She didn't talk about Sam with anyone- Elide and Manon didn't know for over a year after they started working together, and as far as she knew, the boys of The Cadre still didn't know. It wasn't something she talked about. The fact that she felt safe enough to share that with Rowan was telling. 

"Well," Lysandra started, "If he's that important to you, I'll have an open mind with him. But if he fucks this up, I swear to God I'll bash his head in, and you can tell him I said that. Actually, scratch that, I'll tell him myself."

"What's wrong with me passing your threats along?"

"He's too soft on you; he won't take it seriously enough. Besides, I've got my scary face down."

"Please, my scary face is far more intimidating than yours. I've been running people off with a single look since high school."

"True, but in this case, it will be much more effective coming from me. You can't threaten your own boyfriend on my behalf, and I can already see you batting your eyelashes and making the whole thing flirtatious." Lysandra scrunched her nose, looking close to gagging at the thought. 

"Excuse me? I'll have you know I take my threats very seriously. I would never taint a promise of violence with something so frivolous as flirting."

"Sorry, babe, I just can't risk it."

Aelin rolled her eyes. When she looked back towards her friend, a soft smile was pulling on her lips. She squeezed Aelin's hand. "For what it's worth, I'm really proud of you, Aelin. And I'm happy for you."

There might have been tears pricking in Aelin's eyes, but she choked them back down. She was immensely grateful for her best friend, who had been with her through thick and thin, who had stayed through the very worst points in her life, and would stay for all the hardships to come. "It's worth a lot."

\---------------------------------------

They called for takeout after Lysandra had made Aelin hash out every single detail of the past few weeks with Rowan, recounting any inkling of attraction she had ever felt towards him since the moment they'd met. It was a little exhausting, discussing every little feeling she'd had over such a large period, but it was liberating at the same time. Aelin had spent so long repressing all of her feelings for Rowan- brushing them off, and when that stopped working, shoving them so far down that she could pretend they weren't there. Finally being able to talk about it all, to take her filter off and just let everything out, felt better than she could possibly express.

Lys kept the conversation flowing, progressing from Aelin's love life to her own, and eventually to all of their friends's. Aelin started yawning before it was even 10, the many hours she'd spent awake finally catching up to her. She invited Lys to spend the night, an offer her friend readily excepted. Aelin was curled up in bed, waiting for Lysandra to get out of the shower when her phone pinged.

**How'd it go?**

Her stomach fluttered as Rowan's name flashed on her screen. **Really well, actually. I should warn you, though, Lysandra might show up on your doorstep sometime soon to make sure you'll keep your hands to yourself and have me home at a reasonable time**.

**Hm, I'm not sure I can promise either of those things. But I'll find some way to appease her.**

**You'd better. I'm not sure I can protect you if she decides to unleash her wrath**. Keeping the teasing up, Aelin smiled a little as she typed another message. **This is the first we've talked all night. What, are you tired of me already?**

**Ha, ha. I was going to text you, but I didn't want to encroach on your time with Lysandra. Thought you might want some space**. Her smile grew as she read his message. He knew she wasn't the type to actually make a big deal out of a few hours without contact, so she knew his response was intentional. A veiled way at telling her he respected her boundaries. She wanted to kiss his stupid face.

**Do you want space?**

**Not at all.**

**I miss you**

**We just saw each other this morning.**

**I know. Silly, isn't it?**

**Definitely. But I miss you too.**

Aelin's smile didn't fade as Lysandra joined her in the bed, snuggling up next to her like they had when they were children. The past twenty-four hours kept replaying in her mind, and she almost didn't want to fall asleep, because she was sure no dream could be sweeter than the life she was currently living. 

\-------------------------------------------------

The smell of coffee and the sunlight streaming through her windows roused Aelin. The sheets beside her were cool- Lysandra must have woken up far before her, as usual. Pulling her phone off her nightstand, Aelin began scrolling through the messages. Someone was blowing up The Cadre and Bitch Queen's group chat, and Aelin was trying to read through it all, but new messages kept popping up, making her attempt at understanding this discussion much harder than it needed to be. 

It seemed that the tour grind was starting to bum Fenrys out, and he missed everyone hanging out. Most everyone agreed, Aelin included. Rehearsals had pretty much taken over their lives, and any time they had outside of the studio was usually spent resting or prepping for the tour. Aelin had spent time with everyone here and there, but it had been quite a few weeks since the whole group got together, and she was excited about the idea of them doing something. When Elide suggested they all go to the movies, Aelin jerked upright, eager to type out her approval. However, since Aelin was a little late to the conversation, everyone had already accepted the idea, with Lys accepting on Aelin's behalf. Reading through their messages, which were filled with teasing jokes and innocent jabs, had her giggling like a child. How they all managed to get along so well was beyond Aelin- some stroke of luck or fate or something- but she was incredibly grateful for it. They never failed to bring a smile to her face.

Throwing the covers off, Aelin slid her feet into her fur slippers and lurched her way into the kitchen, rubbing the excess sleep from her eyes. Lysandra was flipping through channels on Aelin's flatscreen, the meager remainders of a plate of eggs discarded on the coffee table. When she heard Aelin rooting through the cabinets to grab a mug, Lys turned. "You're alive!"

Aelin huffed a laugh. "Shut up. You know, it's common in people our age to prefer sleeping in. You're abnormal. A freak of nature, some might say."

"Being an early riser is much more advantageous. I'm up when the sun is up, it's the natural way of things. My days feel longer. Plus, I never have to worry about being late for work, unlike some people."

"Spoken like a true Boomer."

Lys scoffed in outrage and chunked a decorative pillow at Aelin's head, which she managed to bat away, laughing lightly. After combining all the ingredients to make her coffee to her liking, Aelin set about the food aspect of her breakfast. Looking around, she saw the pan Lysandra has used in the sink. "Wow, you didn't save any for your very best friend?"

"Of course I did, because I know you so well. There are leftovers in the fridge."

Grinning like a fiend, Aelin pulled the tinfoil-wrapped bowl out of the fridge and scraped the eggs onto a plate before popping it in the microwave. While that warmed, Aelin grabbed a pop-tart, laying it on her plate before joining Lysandra on the couch. Lys scrunched her nose at the sugary addition to her meal. "One of these days all that crap is going to catch up to you and you're going to die."

"Christ, can't a girl drink her coffee before she starts discussing her own mortality?"

"I'm just saying that if you cared about me at all, you'd eat some vegetables. You're really willing to leave me all alone in this sad, miserable world for pop-tarts and chocolate?"

"Please, I eat plenty of vegetables. I just don't do it in front of you because I like to make you imagine your existence without me. Makes you properly appreciate me."

"You're insufferable." Lys rolled her eyes. "By the way, did you see all the messages in the group chat?"

"Hard not too. There's a new one every millisecond."

"Yeah, well, we thought we could all go see a movie at the theater down on 18th. I told them you'd be down, since I'm your designated social outing proxy."

"A good decision, yet again. I've never regretted choosing you for a second."

Lys flashed her a grin. "I think we decided Elide was going to pick everyone up. Her suburban is the only car big enough to fit all eight of us."

"Sounds good to me." Aelin shrugged. "As long as I don't end up squished in the backseat again."

Elide showed up at Aelin's apartment around 5:30, the second-to-last stop before they went to the theater. Everyone was in the car except for Rowan. Aelin shoved Fen to the backseat, making him join Lys and Lorcan while she took his roomy middle seat next to Gavriel. The only problem was that Elide's car only had seven real seats- two up front, two in the middle, and three in the back- meaning they were down one seat. It was decided the Lys would sit on Aelin's lap and Rowan would have to go in the back with the other boys. 

Lysandra hopped out of the car so Rowan would have enough room to squeeze by Aelin and into the back. His hand brushed her thigh as he moved past her, and Aelin had to repress a shiver before Lys plopped down on her thighs. 

It was incredibly amusing to see all of the broad-shouldered guys squishing into the backseat. Aelin caught Rowan's eye several times in the rearview mirror, being as inconspicuous as they could possibly be. His face hardly changed, making no obvious movements, but Aelin could sense the little shifts, could feel the messages he was trying to send without drawing anyone's attention. Aelin tried to convey some messages of her own, and it seemed to her like Rowan understood her meaning, if the minuscule tug at his lip meant anything.

She had to admit, the secretiveness was kind of... fun. At this point, at least. There was something exhilarating about secret meetings and stolen looks in rearview mirrors and subtle hints that no one else picks up on. Aelin was sure eventually she would grow tired of the secrecy- would want to just shout it from the rooftops, to post pictures of them kissing and sweet messages on his birthday. But she could see the fun in it now, and Aelin was going to let that high run its course. 

Elide drove at least five miles under the speed limit the entire way, but they still managed to make it with fifteen minutes to spare. The theater was relatively full, given that they were currently in between showings. They all bought their tickets for the 6:30 showing of the latest horror film. Aelin loved horror movies, so while she knew little about this one, she knew she would probably enjoy it. They sent the boys to get drinks and snacks while they found decent seats. The lights were still up when they arrived, so the girls were easily able to snag a row right in the middle. They filled out four seats- Manon in the aisle seat, Elide and Lys in the middle, and Aelin sitting next to the empty chairs where the boys would soon reside. Lys flashed her a knowing look, to which Aelin just stuck out her tongue.

When the guys finally arrived, arms full with candy and popcorn and water bottles, Aelin was pleased to see Rowan leading their procession- as the first to shuffle into the row, he took up the seat next to her, just as she had planned. She kept her head forward as the rest of the boys filed in, kept her face neutral. Aelin was pretty exceptional at this whole inconspicuous thing, if she did say so herself. They passed around snacks and drinks until everyone had their desired provisions for the movie.

"What is this movie even about?" Aelin's question was directed at Rowan, but she said it loud enough that everyone tuned in. 

Fen spoke up before Rowan, though Aelin got the feeling that Rowan had no idea and didn't care to learn. He launched into an extremely detailed explanation of how this little girl went missing mysteriously and twenty years later, a lady appears claiming to be the missing girl, and then horror ensues. It actually sounded pretty interesting, and Aelin felt excitement bubble in her chest when the lights started to dim. 

These were the sort of horror movies she loved. She had no problem with gore, but movies that were nothing but carnage could get old. The ones with the psychological factors, with build-up to the violence- those were her favorites. Aelin was so engrossed in the movie that the brush of Rowan's fingers on the back of her hand made her jump a little. She heard him chuckle under his breath before he pried her fingers off of the seat cushion they were gripping. She wasn't sure what he was doing- their friends were right there, and they were in a packed movie theater. Someone could see. But when she looked over at him discreetly, she could practically hear him say _Stop worrying so much_. 

She flashed back, _Isn't this a little risky?_

_No one can see_. He flashed his eyes down to their entwined hands meaningfully. Glancing down, Aelin could see he was probably right. Their hands were easily hidden between their bodies, clasped underneath the armrests of their chairs, and their minute movements wouldn't draw any attention. Once she felt comfortable that they weren't going to expose themselves, Aelin relaxed back into her seat, releasing the air from her lungs. 

Rowan's fingers started moving slowly over her hand, drawing shapes on her palm and tracing up her fingers. Aelin closed her eyes for a moment, reveling in Rowan's soft touch. His fingers gradually started ascending up her forearm, moving as far as possible before they would enter other people's line of sight. The patterns he was painting on her skin felt like fire in her veins, his touch sending bolts of lightning through her entire body. 

She couldn't help the little gasp that slipped from her as Rowan's hand moved to her thigh. Luckily, they were in a horror movie, so gasps weren't exactly unusual, but Aelin still chided herself on the slip. Rowan didn't seem to think anything of it; she could feel the male pride radiating off of him at the reaction he drew from her. His hands traced the skin of her thigh, exposed thanks to her short skirt. He covered every inch of bare skin with lines and circles, slowly inching farther and farther upwards. When he hit the fabric of her skirt, he deftly slipped his fingers underneath, continuing his slow journey upwards. Aelin clenched her hands hard on her armrests as Rowan approached the apex of her thighs, touching everywhere but exactly where she wanted him. Teasing bastard.

He pulled his hand away before ever touching her, and Aelin had to bite down on a whine, but Rowan quickly leaned into her ear and whispered, "Bathroom." H stood up and began sliding down the row, walking in front of all the guys and whispering some excuse about refilling the popcorn. Aelin waited a moment, to avoid any suspicion and to try to gain some composure, before standing herself. 

"Sorry, I really have to pee," she whispered apologetically to the girls as she shuffled past them. 

"You'll miss the best part!" Lys said. As if Aelin cared about the stupid movie anymore. 

"I know, but nature calls. Fill me in when I get back?"

"Yeah, yeah." Lys waved her hand dismissively, her eyes already trained back on the screen. 

Moving quickly, Aelin darted down the hallways, scanning for the bathrooms. Thankfully, the halls were pretty vacant, since most everyone was in a show; she had no idea how she would spin this if anyone saw. When she finally reached the restrooms, she stopped short. Would he have gone into the men's or the women's?

Before she had the chance to contemplate this too much, an arm shot out of the women's restroom and yanked her inside. She didn't have to look to know who it was. Before she could even take a breath her back was to the door and Rowan's lips were on hers. She groaned into his mouth, twisting her fingers into his hair. His hands slid eagerly along her body, moving down her back and over her hips, pulling her more firmly against him. 

Aelin was ready to lose herself to him, but a thought suddenly grabbed her attention. Pulling away from Rowan's lips, she breathed, "Is it-"

"Empty," He replied, pressing his lips briefly to hers. "I checked before you got here."

Aelin smiled as she pulled his face back to hers, grappling behind herself for the lock. Once she flipped it into place, Rowan grasped the back of her thighs, wrapping her legs around his torso as he walked them back towards the sinks. Setting her on top of the counter, Rowan grabbed Aelin's face between his hands and brought his mouth to hers, his palms tilting her face up to get a better angle. As his tongue reached into her mouth, she moved her hands up his chest, trailing them over his neck before they made their way into his hair and tugged. A groan fell from his lips, and his mouth started descending down her throat, unbuttoning her shirt as he went. He kept moving until his knees hit the ground, taking her blouse and skirt with him. Her head fell back against the mirror as he moved her underwear aside and put his mouth on her. 

Twisting one hand in his hair and using the other to muffle her sounds, Aelin writhed atop the counter as Rowan worked her. His hands pinned her hips to the counter, keeping her still so he could, in his words, "do his job properly." He had only been touching her for a few minutes before Aelin tugged him back up. 

Wiping his mouth, he tilted his head and said, "Is there a problem?"

"They're going to get suspicious if we take too long."

"Ah, but we're in a very busy theater. I'm sure the line for popcorn is _incredibly_ long." He trailed his lips along her collarbone as he spoke. "And on top of that, we're celebrities. At least a couple of people will stop us for photos, yeah?"

"Mmm, maybe so, but perhaps we shouldn't push it?"

He pulled back so he could look her in the eyes, a sparkling grin taking over his face. "If my queen commands it." With that, he hoisted her up and flipped her around, planting her feet on the floor and bending her over the counter. They moved in a flurry, removing all the necessary articles of clothing and getting into position. Aelin barely had time to muffle her moan when Rowan pushed into her.

She pushed herself up until her head was resting against his neck as he thrust inside of her, her hands still braced on the countertop. His pants and groans filled her ear as he pressed his cheek against her head, periodically leaning in and kissing her temple as they moved. "Jesus, Aelin," he huffed. 

Bringing her hands up, she wound them into his hair, pushing her hips back to match him thrust for thrust. He wound his arms around her torso, banding her against him. She turned her face into his neck as she peaked, sparks shooting through every nerve in her body. He was quick to follow, his hips pinning hers against the counter as they slowed. 

When they wound down, Aelin turned and kissed him, long and languorous. After they managed to pull away, Aelin started tugging her clothes back on, tossing Rowan his shirt from where it had been discarded on the floor. 

"So, you think we avoided suspicion?" he asked, a teasing smile on his lips. 

Aelin looked at him out of the corner of her eyes as she buttoned her top, watching him pull his shirt down over his sculpted abdomen. "Hm, probably so, but they might know something's up when you come back without any popcorn."

"Damn it," he grumbled. "You go in first, since I'll actually have to go wait in that line. I'll be in a minute."

"Alright. Wait-" she called out to him as he started making his way towards the exit. "Your hair." Striding over to him, she neatened the strands, trying to settle the disarray her fingers had created. Once she was finished, she beamed at him. "There. Perfectly presentable." 

He smirked at her. "Wish I could say the same for you. You might want to fix your lipstick before you go." He dragged his thumb along her chin before walking out the door. Aelin breathed a laugh before turning back towards the mirror.

\------------------------------------------------

Scooting back through their row, Aelin murmured apologies, trying to get out of the way as quickly as possible. Her friends didn't seem to pay her much mind, tilting their heads to see around her body as she moved past. Flopping down into her seat, Aelin tried to jump back into the movie. She was about to lean over and ask Lys to fill her in, but her friend started talking first. 

"That was quite a long trip to the bathroom."

"I know," Aelin complained. "It was insane in there."

"Oh, I don't doubt that," Lysandra said, shooting Aelin a pointed look. Her meaning wasn't lost on Aelin.

"I am very sure I don't know what you're talking about."

"Hm, and where's Rowan with that popcorn? I've been waiting and waiting for the refill-"

Aelin pinched her friend's thigh. "Just shut up and tell me what's going on in this damn movie."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kept writing and rewriting this, and I'm still not completely happy with it. But I hope you guys like it okay! I love y'all sm


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm alive!!!!!! and I am ruining these characters' happiness because I can hahaha :) honestly it's my job as a writer, so this chapter is kinda wildddddd but I hope you guys like it!!!!!!
> 
> TW for mentions of sexual abuse- nothing graphic, just mentions that it happened

"Rowan, you have to try a little harder."

Her boyfriend was leaning backwards in his chair, a scowl firmly etched onto his face and his arms crossed tightly over his chest. "There's no way to _try_ in this game, it's complete chance."

She tsked at him. "That attitude won't get you anywhere."

"There is no conceivable way that I can somehow figure out what random thing you are thinking of from five questions." 

Aelin tutted her finger at him. "Excuse you, this game is beyond reproach. It came straight from the creative oceans of Lys and I's minds, so there will be no criticism taken. Besides, five questions is more than enough for you to guess what I am thinking of!"

"This isn't even a game- there's no strategy you can use. It's just making a wild guess of some random person or object from the vaguest of hints and hoping it is the one you are picturing."

"It's not about _strategy_ , it's about having a connection." Aelin shut her eyes and rubbed her temples. "You have to pick up the waves I'm sending you."

"That's absurd."

"Then how come me and Lys haven't missed a single one?"

"Because you two are freaks, that's why."

Lysandra abandoned the cushion from which she had been silently watching the lover's quarrel, sliding over and throwing her arm over Aelin's shoulder. "Now, now, Rowan. No need to let your jealousy sour the mood. A and I are soulmates, so of course we ace this game. It's not your fault you can't keep up."

Rowan leveled her an unamused look. "I'm not jealous, this is just idiocy."

"Booo," Aelin jeered from her place under her friend's arm, twisting her lips into a dramatic pout. "You're no fun."

Rowan just swiveled his gaze onto her, one of his eyebrows cocking up. The flat look in his eyes had morphed into something much heavier. Headier. _I think I've shown you plenty of times just how_ fun _I am_.

Aelin smirked a little. _Mm, is that so? Perhaps you didn't make that lasting of an impression_. They both knew that wasn't true, but the flare of indignation and desire in Rowan's eyes was reason enough to keep taunting him. 

_That's some big talk, Princess. Do you think you can back it up?_

She scoffed at him, ready to fire back in their mental exchange, when-

"It's really weird when you guys do that, you know."

She and Rowan's head moved in sync, turning to look at Lysandra, whose eyes were darting uncomfortably between them. Aelin felt like she was coming up from underwater, her thoughts and senses returning slowly as she broke the surface. "Hm?"

Lys flicked her fingers between the two as she spoke. "You know, that thing where you have silent conversations with one another. You sit and stare really intensely at each other, and I would think you were just eye-fucking, but your expressions change as if you're communicating. It's freaky."

At that, Rowan fell back into his chair, a smug smile plastered across his face. "Aw, don't be jealous, Lys. A and I are soulmates, so of course we can have mental conversations. It's not your fault you can't keep up."

Aelin snorted a laugh as Lysandra shouted, "Hey, jackass!" and grappled behind herself for a throw pillow, which she promptly chucked at Rowan's face. His shoulders were shaking in quiet laughter, obviously impressed with his own wit. Aelin smiled to herself as she watched him- he was an arrogant bastard, but for some reason, it wasn't nearly as annoying as it used to be. Perhaps it was because she knew him better, knew the insecurities and secrets that hid behind that carefully constructed persona; perhaps it was because she knew that that same cocky grin would be looking down on her later tonight as she writhed in the sheets. No matter the case, all of Rowan's actions were becoming far too endearing to Aelin. She needed to slow down before she got in over her head. 

Well, she might already be there. But that was a thought for a different time. 

"You're not nearly as funny as you think you are." Lys hissed at Rowan, fresh out of pillows to hurl at him. 

"Hey, I just borrowed your joke. If you didn't find it funny when I said it, isn't that more of a reflection on your comedic abilities than mine?"

Lys narrowed her eyes. "No, the merit of a joke is in its delivery. My use of the joke was executed perfectly. Yours was not done nearly as well, mostly because you obviously thought it was."

"I feel like this evaluation is a little biased. Don't you have too much skin in this game?"

"If I'm biased, then you are, too!"

"I never claimed that I wasn't."

Lysandra huffed in frustration. Crossing her arms over her chest, she turned her chin up haughtily. "A, I think you need to get your boyfriend away from me before I kill him."

Aelin couldn't restrain her grin- she loved that Rowan and Lysandra were getting along. Granted, they had been bickering all night, but knowing Rowan, that was a good sign. If he didn't like Lys, he'd be snapping at her in earnest, if he bothered to speak to her at all. Aelin had experienced both his animosity and his affection, and from personal experience, she knew that this sort of playful arguing was definitely on the more promising side of the scale.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Rowan's face stretch into a yawn- a huge, sleepy thing, his nose scrunched and his eyes squinted. It made her heart melt a little- he was too damn cute for his own good- and it made her slightly concerned. He had been spending additional hours in the studio as the date of their tour quickly approached. She often felt him tap out familiar beats against her skin as they laid in bed, the rhythmic drum of his fingers lulling her into sleep, and there were callouses on his palm from the hours he had spent gripping his drumsticks, rough patches that made her shiver when he dragged his hands over her body. But no matter how much she told him to take it easy, he refused to give himself a break. He was working himself ragged, and while she admired his dedication to his performance, that shouldn't come at the expense of his wellbeing. If she had to force that self-care onto him herself, so be it. Starting with him getting a good night's rest. 

She turned to her friend, who was still staring at anything other than Rowan's face. "We should probably head to bed soon. It's getting pretty late and we have a full day of rehearsals tomorrow."

"No, _I_ have a full day of rehearsals tomorrow," Lysandra scoffed. "All you have to do is mark spacing and watch the rest of us practice."

Aelin scowled. "Hey, you know I would be singing if I had any say in it." She didn't need to be reminded of her mandatory vocal rest- she knew that the tour was quickly approaching and that she needed to be in peak shape, but sitting around and twiddling her thumbs was killing her. "It's the label's protocol, so take it up with Maeve."

Lysandra raised her hands defensively. "Hey, I didn't mean to poke the bear. It's nice that they are letting you rest- if you're going to be so bitter about it, you should just give it to me. I'd kill to get a break."

"Please, you would be back at the studio within 24 hours."

Lys grinned at her. "Yeah, you're probably right." With that, she slipped on her shoes and hurried out the door, shouting a quick promise to let Aelin know when she was home safe. 

Aelin had been so caught up in her goodbyes that she didn't even realize Rowan was behind her until his arms wrapped around her waist. He promptly buried his face in her neck, silver hair brushing her cheek as he mumbled something incomprehensible and pressed himself closer to her. Aelin chuckled as she locked the door before spinning in his arms, resting her palms on the juncture between his neck and his jaw so she could bring his eyes to hers. "What did you say?"

He blinked slowly, big hands coming up to pet her hair. "Nothing," he murmured, smiling softly down at her. She couldn't help grinning back at him. 

Pulling his hands down from her head, she laced their fingers together and tugged him towards her bathroom. "Come on, let's get washed up."

They got ready quickly, washing faces and brushing teeth until they were both ready for bed. Rowan was still toweling his face off when Aelin wandered into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of water. She couldn't have been gone more than thirty seconds, but by the time she returned, Rowan had finished drying his face and was instead brushing his fingers over the picture Aelin had tapped to the corner of her mirror. It was a selfie of them- she had taken it a few weeks ago, before they were officially together. They had gone to get ramen on their lunch break, and Aelin had insisted on taking of photo of them with their noodles. Rowan had refused to comply, of course, so he was glaring at the camera, but Aelin was puckering her lips and holding up a peace sign.

"Why did you put this up here?" He asked. His fingers were still touching the photo, eyes locked on the frozen memory. Aelin found herself staring at it too. 

She paused a moment before answering. "I like to look at it."

Aelin tore her gaze away from the photos to look at Rowan through the reflection. His cheeks were flaming red, the color staining all the way up to his ears, and his blush was so goddamn endearing that Aelin was not entirely sure she wouldn't hang up every photo of them she had just to see him flustered again. Snapping back to reality, Rowan dropped his hand and ducked his head, murmuring a "C'mon" before heading towards her bedroom. 

Rowan quickly slipped out of his sweatshirt and jeans, tossing them onto the chair in the corner of her room before peeling back the sheets and getting into bed. He was sitting against the headboard, trying very valiantly to seem alert, although Aelin saw as he tried to forcibly blink the fatigue out of his eyes. She quickly swapped her leggings for a pair of pajama shorts and her t-shirt for Rowan's discarded sweatshirt. She could feel him watching her as she changed, could feel her stomach churn at the weight of his gaze on her skin, but she promptly squashed that reaction and slid into bed next to him. Tonight was for sleeping.

Switching off the lamp on her bedside table, Aelin pulled the covers up to her chin and burrowed into the mattress. "Goodnight, Ro."

"Goodnight?"

"Mhm," Aelin said, eyes resolutely closed. 

A cool breeze fanned across her face, and Aelin instinctively opened her eyes to see Rowan's face hovering above hers. "Is something wrong?" she asked. 

His face pulled into a small smirk, hand drifting across her stomach. "It's still early."

She looked at him squarely in the eye. "You're tired." 

"I'm fine." His words would almost have been believable, had he not stifled a yawn as he spoke. 

"You've been dead on your feet all day. I told you, you're killing yourself rehearsing for the tour. You need to give yourself a break."

Rowan huffed a laugh, pulling her so that her back met his chest. "Who knew that you were such a mother hen?"

She swatted at him over her shoulder. "I'm not joking. You need to start taking better care of yourself. And that means sleeping when you're tired."

"But...I want you."

Aelin couldn't help but smile at that. Snuggling into his chest, she hummed contentedly. "I'll be here when you wake up."

He was quiet for a long moment. "Promise?" he whispered. 

"Of course," she said softly. She craned her head around to ask him if he really needed to ask, but when she looked over at him, his breathing had already evened out. Flipping back around, Aelin pulled the blankets up again and shut her eyes.

\-----------------------------------------------------

Aelin's fingers scrabbled across the wood of her bedside table as she searched for her phone. It was surprising she couldn't find it immediately, even with her mind fogged from sleep, since its incessant buzzing was practically rattling the walls. Her fingers finally closed around cool metal, and she didn't even bother to read the caller ID before accepting the call and raising the phone to her ear. 

"What," she grumbled. It was still dark outside, and Aelin was committed to her mission to keep her eyes half-closed for the duration of this conversation so she could go back to sleep. But when she heard the sobs coming from the other end of the line, the early hour and her drowsiness were instantly forgotten. She'd recognize her best friend's cries anywhere, and the intensity of her sobs had Aelin shooting straight up in her bed. 

"Lysandra? What's going on? What's wrong?"

"Aelin," she whimpered, voice scratchy from crying. "It's bad. It's so bad." Lysandra dissolved into tears again.

"Lysandra, slow down. I need you to tell me what's happening." There was nothing but sobs on the other end, and Aelin was growing increasingly panicked. "Lysandra, can you hear me?" 

Rowan's warm hand encased Aelin's on the bed, his face pinched in worry. Their loud conversation must have woken him up, but that was not even on her radar with her best friend in shambles. Aelin quickly squeezed his hand before reverting her attention to Lys. "Lys, I need you to talk to me, okay?"

Lysandra was gasping for breath on the other end of the line. "O–okay."

"Okay. Alright, I need you to breathe with me. You remember our breathing exercise, yeah?"

"Mhm," Lys sniffled. 

"Okay, let's do that. Big breath in-" Aelin inhaled dramatically, counting four beats before instructing Lys to let it out, blowing her breath out slowly. "That's it. Again."

Lysandra's breath's cut off into choked sobs a few times, but after several minutes, her heaving breaths had steadied enough for Aelin to get something out of her. 

"Lys, where are you?"

"I'm at h-home" she hiccuped.

Aelin immediately threw the covers off of herself, scrambling to put on some decent clothes. "Okay, I'm on my way over, alright? I'm going to stay on the line with you." Aelin turned to look at Rowan as she spoke, but he was already up and pulling a shirt over his head. He used one of his hands to grab his keys and the other to grip her hand, leading them out towards his car. 

The morning light was slowly trickling over the horizon as Rowan sped down the streets, weaving between cars with ease. Aelin kept breathing with Lysandra, trying to calm her down as much as possible, but it was obvious that whatever had upset her was not something that could be easily resolved. It had been a long time since Aelin had seen her friend this disconsolate, and knowing the severity of what she had been crying about then, Aelin was more than a little worried.

As soon as Rowan pulled into Aedion's driveway, Aelin was flying out of the car and running towards the door, which was, thankfully, unlocked. She could hear Rowan's pounding footsteps as he followed her, but she had eyes for nothing but Lysandra in that moment. 

When she spotted her friend, she was curled up on the floor in the living room, her back pressed against the couch and her knees pulled into her chest. Aelin darted over to her, pulling her head from between her knees and taking in her splotchy, tear-stained face. The sight of her best friend set off a fresh wave of tears in Lysandra, and Aelin pulled her into her arms, letting Lysandra wet her sweatshirt with her tears. She dragged her fingers through Lysandra's hair slowly, mumbling soft reassurances to her until she was calm enough to speak. 

Eventually, Lysandra pulled away, wiping at her face and sniffling gently. "I- I don't know how they found out. I never wanted them to find out."

"Who found out? Lys, what happened?"

"They found the old court records, A," she choked out. Aelin froze. "I don't know how they got them, but it's already everywhere. Haven't you seen?"

"Lys, you don't mean-" 

"Just look." Lysandra shoved her phone into Aelin's hands, a series of tabs already open. 

**Bitch Queen's Lysandra Victim of Sexual Abuse, Police Files Reveal**

**Lysandra, Guitarist of Bitch Queen, A Survivor of Childhood Sexual Abuse**

**Court Records Confirm that Lysandra of Bitch Queen was Abused by Her Father**

**Lysandra's Troubled Past, Debunked**

It was as if a blanket had been thrown over Aelin's senses- her ears felt as if she was underwater, all outside sounds muted and muffled; her sight had blurred, the headlines in front of her fading into nothingness as her eyes unfocused; her fingers felt numb, and she didn't even realize she was gripping the phone so hard her knuckles were white. No, the only thing she was aware of was the ringing in her ears. And the white-hot anger searing through her veins. 

"How-" Aelin cleared her throat, trying to stifle the rage in her voice to the best of her ability. Lysandra needed comfort right now- her fury could wait. "How did they find out?"

"I don't know." Lysandra's cries had turned softer, brimming with a sadness so deep Aelin wasn't sure if she would be able to pull her out. "We did so much to bury it all, I don't understand how they found out."

This was worse than she imagined. There was nothing that could have hurt Lysandra more than this, than having the most private and painful part of her life broadcasted to the entire world without her consent. 

Aelin tightened her jaw. "We'll deal with it, alright? These just came out, so I'll call Yrene and we'll get them taken down-"

"It's too late, A. Thousands of people have already seen them, so even if we get the sites taken down, it'll spread around anyways. They have the transcripts from the court case. They have my-" she let out a strangled sigh, "my testimony."

"Fuck," Aelin muttered.

"It wasn't for them to know. I never wanted any of it to get out, but the details- they weren't for them to know." Aelin just looked at her friend, looked at the sorrow etched onto her face as she stared into her shaking hands. "I've given enough of myself to them, haven't I? That part of me, it wasn't for them to have. But they took it anyways. They just took it."

"Lys. Lys, look at me." Aelin grasped her friend's cheeks between her palms and tilted her face up to her own. "We'll deal with this, alright? It's horrible, and it's probably going to suck for a while, but we're going to get through it together. You have me, and Aedion, and Manon and Elide. The guys, too. We're all here for you, whatever you need. There's not one part of this you have to face alone."

"I know. I just- god, I thought I had put all of this behind me, you know? I put my dad in jail and I moved to L.A., and I thought I could finally start over, away from all the shit. I just don't want to have to relive it all. And the tour is less than a week away, so that's going to be all people think about when they see me perform, all people ask me about when they stop me on the streets. I don't know if I can do it."

"You don't owe them any answers. I can handle any reporter who tries to corner you, and if anyone gets around me, just remember that you don't have to answer anything you don't want to. I know it's not much, Lys, but I can tell you from experience that Hollywood gossip makes your life shitty for a while, but everyone will move on to the next thing soon enough. And we'll be by your side the entire way."

Lysandra wiped her nose meekly. "Okay."

Aelin pulled her friend into her arms again. "I'm sorry I can't help you more," she whispered. 

"There's nothing you could have really done anyways. I just needed to talk to you."

"I'll be with you through all of this, Lys, I mean it. Anytime you need me, I'm there."

Lysandra tightened her arms around Aelin. "Thank you."

Aelin wasn't sure how long they sat there, Lysandra's tears slowly running dry, her body sagging in Aelin's arms. It was full-fledged morning by that time, sunlight streaming through the windows of Lysandra's house. 

"Shit, what time is it?" Lys shot up, scrabbling for her phone. 

"7:30," Rowan said, making Lysandra startle dramatically.

"Christ, I didn't know you were here."

"I drove Aelin over. I didn't want to intrude, so I've been in the kitchen. I just came in a minute ago when I noticed things had quieted down."

Lysandra nodded absently, before snapping back to attention. "Fuck, it's 7:30! We're going to be late for rehearsal!"

Aelin put a hand on her friend's arm, stopping her from getting up. "We can take today off. I'm sure management will understand."

"No way, it's too close to the tour. I don't want to mess up what we worked so hard for. Besides, I'll feel better if I have something to do."

They got dressed quickly, Aelin and Rowan borrowing from Lysandra's closet, since they were still in their pajamas. Aelin and Lysandra were pretty similar in size, so there was no trouble there, but unfortunately, the only men's clothes Lys had were things Aedion had left at her house, and Rowan was a good deal bulkier than he was. He shimmied into a hoodie of Aedion's, which was likely oversized on her cousin but fit snuggly on Rowan, and stuck with the sweats he had come in, unable to get the jeans over his thighs. 

Lysandra didn't bother to cover the evidence of her crying, simply taking two Advils and grabbing a bottle of water before heading out the door. Aelin and Rowan followed behind her, but Aelin ran face-first into her back when Lysandra froze in the doorway. 

Because outside, there was chaos. 

At least twenty different reporters, and what looked like a good deal of bystanders too, had all gathered in front of Lysandra's house. Some were fully equipped with cameras and microphones, others simply had voice recorders or notepads, but all were shouting at Lysandra, trying to get some sort of statement on what her court documents had revealed. And Lysandra was standing there, muscles locked in fear, eyes slowly filling with tears as she took in the scene in front of her. 

Gently pushing her out of the way, Aelin guided Lysandra to the side of her portico. She quickly turned back to Rowan, who was glaring at the sea of reporters. "Stay with Lysandra," she instructed. She waited for his nod before marching up to the lawn. 

"Hey," she called out. A few people looked her way, but most were still trying to get Lysandra's attention, a few even trying to approach her. "Hey!" she yelled. By that point, she had gotten a good portion of the journalist's attention, and many had turned their camera's towards her, since it was obvious she was going to say something.

Unfortunately, she had no plans to give them the story they were looking for. "I don't know what you all were expecting by coming here today, but you aren't getting it. Please leave."

Her message didn't take well. Instantly reporters were clamoring to get her attention, asking for her statement regarding the whole thing, and what her experience of the situation had been, since she and Lysandra had been good friends since childhood. It made her want to throw up. 

"Excuse me!" she yelled again. "I'm not sure what part of what I just said was unclear, but you all need to go. You've gotten enough of a story for one day, don't you think? Lysandra won't be giving any statements, and neither will I, so again, please leave."

Her words were still met with shouts from the crowd, pleading for comments from both her and Lysandra. Aelin could feel her blood boiling at the audacity of these people, at the pure entitlement they had. "Fine, you know what? You want a statement, I'll give you one." 

That garnered everyone's attention. All faces flipped to her, cameras on and voice recorders rolling. She didn't care.

"Everyone who has entered into the music industry understands that, to an extent, you are sacrificing your privacy. It almost feels like when you sign that contract, you are giving permission for your personal life to become public domain, and it sucks sometimes, but that's part of the deal. So even though we don't love it, things like rumors and gossip about who's dating who and what friendships just ended and the like don't faze us all that much, because it's expected. But there are some things that aren't included in this unspoken agreement. I think you guys forget that we are still people. Nobody wants to have the most private parts of their life broadcasted for the world to see, and just because we are in the public eye doesn't mean that we deserve to. But for some reason, that's a concept you people can't seem to grasp. Instead, you dig and dig until you find the few things we choose to keep to ourselves, and you release them without batting an eye. You have no problem exploiting someone's pain because what? It makes a good story? Or perhaps you're just interested in knowing the details of the private life of a celebrity, their happiness and safety be damned. What you're doing here is disgusting. Harassing Lysandra until she gives you something you can sell, and if she gets hurt in the process, who cares? At least you got your story. When it comes to celebrities, you all seem to think you operate under a different set of rules, that you are somehow entitled to information just because you want it. But while we are grateful for all the love and support you all have given us, there are still some lines that cannot be crossed, some boundaries that deserve to stay unbroken. We hope that people who truly care about Bitch Queen and Lysandra would be understanding of that. Now, get out of here before I call the police."

Aelin stood and watched as they all slowly left, switching their cameras off and hopping to vans until the lawn was entirely empty. She hoped that some of them left because they took her words to heart, but she knew that many of them were probably satisfied enough with her outburst, at least for now. That was alright by her- if she could take any of the attention off of Lysandra, she would.

Looking back to where she had left them, she saw her friend crying quietly into Rowan's shoulder, his arm wrapped gently around her in comfort. He made eye contact with Aelin over Lys's head, sending her a smile full of pure pride. She sent him a small one back before walking over to them. 

She laid a hand on Lysandra's back. "They're all gone. Do you still want to go up to the studio?"

Lysandra extracted herself from Rowan's embrace. "Yes, please." Aelin nodded, and Lysandra turned to face Rowan again. "Sorry about that. I just couldn't look at all of them-"

"You have nothing to apologize for," he said before striding towards his car. Aelin held out her hand, and Lysandra dropped her keys into them.

The drive to the studio was quiet, rife with emotions that neither of them talked about. They would delve into them one day, when things weren't so raw, but in that moment, when Lys's head was so loud, they just sat in the quietness.

\--------------------------------------------------------------

Their team cut them some slack for being late. Truly, they were surprised they showed up at all, all things considered, so they overlooked their tardiness and allowed them to jump right into rehearsals. Aelin marched around the stage as the other girls played, marking the spacing she could do in her sleep and trying incredibly hard not to hum out the tunes she knew so well. If there was one upside to doing next to nothing in rehearsals, it was that she could keep a better eye on Lysandra. Lys played all of her parts flawlessly, as expected, although Aelin could tell that her mind would occasionally drift away from her. She would always snap back out of her thoughts and focus intently on playing, obviously trying to distract herself. Aelin wished there was more she could do for her. She hated feeling so useless. 

The hours ticked away, many of them spent with Aelin laying around and watching her friends play. Rehearsal seemed to pass faster than usual, likely since Aelin was absorbed in watching Lysandra's every expression. Before she knew it, they were being sent home for the day. 

Aelin collected her stuff and went over to Lysandra, who was organizing her things meticulously. Once she was done, Lysandra pulled her phone out of her bag, powering it on. "Are you sure that's a good idea?" Aelin asked. They had all turned their phones off this morning, not wanting to see any more of those stories circulating on their feed. They were all going to be the same, and none of them were going to be pretty, so they had no desire to look at them. 

"I'm not going to look at any articles, I just want to make sure Maeve didn't text me. I'm sure she'll be wanting to discuss this with me at some point."

Aelin winced. She knew that would be a conversation she wasn't allowed to sit in on, and knowing Maeve's nature, she worried for her friend having to face her alone. "Anything?"

"No, but I missed a call from your mom. She probably saw everything. I'm going to call her back before we go."

"You don't have to talk to her if you don't-"

"Please, your mom practically raised me. I'm sure she's worried, so it's the least I can do. Go on out, I'll meet you in a minute."

"Okay, fine. I'll go see Rowan, find me when you're done." 

She found Rowan leaning on the wall outside of their practice room. Before he could say anything, she pulled him into a nearby lounge, staring at him for a moment before setting her forehead on his shoulder, sighing heavily. His arms came up around her, one stroking her back and the other buried into her hair. They stood like that for a long moment, breathing each other in.

"How was she?" he asked.

"As good as can be expected, I guess. She was trying really hard not to think about it, but I caught her zoning out a few times." She exhaled heavily. "I'm worried about her."

"Me too. But you're doing all you can just by being there for her and helping her ride this out." 

"I know. I just wish I could take all her pain away. She's endured enough."

"Mmm. I wasn't aware you had this kind streak in you. Is it only reserved for those you've known for over ten years, or am I eligible for some, too?"

Aelin scoffed lightly and shoved him. She knew he was trying to lighten her mood, and she loved him for it. "Shut up, I'm plenty nice to you."

"Oh, really? Name one nice thing you've done for me in the past week."

"I can't think of them on the spot, asshole, but I am always-"

"Rowan Whitethorn," a new voice spoke, sounding like a blade dragging across a whetstone. 

Rowan looked sharply towards the doorway, towards the voice that had called him, his face a mask of stone. "Maeve." Luckily, he and Aelin had already parted, but she was still anxious about what sort of scene Maeve had walked in on. Being alone in a room together was probably suspicious enough, so Aelin could only hope she hadn't seen or heard anything incriminating.

She walked slowly towards them, her heels clacking on the sleek floor. Her eyes remained on Rowan the entire time, scanning his face for something. When she stood a few feet in front of them she stopped, crossing her arms over her chest. "I have to say, Rowan, I'm rather confused. I thought I made myself very clear in our last conversation, and I don't seem to recall you having any trouble hearing."

Aelin's heart had frozen in her chest. She glanced sidelong at Rowan; she couldn't tell if he was breathing. "I don't know what you mean, ma'am."

Maeve tapped a finger on her chin, making a show of contemplating. "Mmm, perhaps too much time at the drums has taken a toll on your ears. Maybe I should look into finding a replacement for the band."

Rowan's eyes widened. "I don't understand, have I done something?"

"Last time we spoke, I reminded you of your duties as a subordinate in my label. Of the promises you made in your contract. And here I was, thinking you had taken my words to heart, but then," Maeve leveled a cold stare on Rowan, "I see this."

Holding her phone out, Aelin could clearly see the headline Maeve was showing. Could clearly see the picture that accompanied it. 

It was a head of brown hair tucked tightly into Rowan's shoulder, his arms twisted around her in an attempt to comfort her. His expressions are always rather minute, but there were obvious signs of concern. It was a scene she recognized, a scene she had seen just that morning. 

And the article title-

**Has Rowan Whitethorn Finally Found the Love He Has Been Looking For? Whitethorn Spotted Passionately Protecting Bitch Queen's Lysandra as Her Past Resurfaces**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if Lysandra's backstory didn't seem detailed enough, sexual abuse isn't something I feel very comfortable writing about but I wanted to keep her story true to the original plot, so. 
> 
> Thank you guys for sticking with me even though I disappeared for like two months. You're support means the world to me

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhh I'm actually really excited for this fic, so I hope you guys have some interest in it!!


End file.
